Two of a Kind: Just Like Gravity
by Sierra Bravo
Summary: Locked away in Arkham, The Joker has found someone new to play with. And he will push Jazlyn Mirez to her limits and over that edge into Madness. - NolanVerse, set after TDK. Rated 'M' for Sexual Abuse, Violence, and Torture.
1. Introduction

Her heels clicked on the floor at a brisk pace, making a hollow sound that echoed through the hallways. She passed dozens of rooms, rooms filled with dark, hungry eyes that followed her shapely form as she passed their door.

This was the hallway that held the criminals. Just criminals, animals, nothing more, nothing less. Deeper inside the building, there were fewer rooms, fewer people.

Back here, a room was held for someone else.

This one was more than just a man. More than just a criminal. More than just an animal.

What was he?

That was what Harleen Quinzel was here to find out. Dressed up in a flashy white suite that held her curves in a subtle sort of way, she was a pretty, young intern of 24, hoping to finish her final year of college and become a professional criminal psychologist.

The man she'd come to see would be her final patient before going on to bigger things. He had gone up against the whole city, burnt the city's D.A. to half a crisp, tried to turn all of Gotham's citizens into murderers...

She couldn't wait to get started.

Finally reaching the door, her destination, she inhaled slowly to steel herself. Then she turned the handle and opened the door.

Inside, the room was pitch black. She'd been told they liked to keep it this way. So he couldn't get any...ideas. They'd even gone so far as to cover up the tiny door window.

As she took a second to let her eyes adjust a little to the dark, she heard a voice from near the far corner. Away from the light that poured in from the open door. It was a slow, darkly-delicate voice that sent chills right up her spine...

"Evening... Miissss.. Quuiinnnzzeeeellll..."


	2. First Session

It was right about the time that she looked over to the corner, where she'd heard his voice, that the lights suddenly came on. And there he was.

He was looking right at her, head lowered and tilted slightly to the side, sitting on the floor against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. He blinked in a slow-motion sort of way, his lips smacking slowly, as his eyes met hers.

He was wearing a straight jacket. She'd been told this was because he'd grabbed at a nurse earlier today. She wasn't given the details. Apparently, it had been bad enough to require the jacket.

Harleen took her eyes off of him long enough to glare back down the hallway...the sudden light had been most unnecessary. Looking back at her client, she paused for a moment to study him, clipboard held against her chest.

'Look at him,' she thought to herself, 'Sitting there in that jacket, helpless. But...he doesn't care. Look in his eyes. What is that..' She couldn't make out the look in his eyes. Was it the paint, masking his feelings, or where there no feelings there to really find...?

Brushing off this odd thought, she moved to sit in the chair provided for her, and began to write on her clipboard.

He was very still, very quiet, as she wrote. Simply watching her.

"First meeting," she murmured softly to herself, scribbling on the paper, "With..the 'Joker'."

When she looked back up at him at last, he was still just staring at her. Setting up her inner defenses on high alert, as her supervisor had warned her to do with him, she finally broke the silence, "Well, you know my name. Can I have yours? Or should I just call you Mr. Joker...or, Joker? Mistah Jay...?"

She resisted cracking a smile, as she pushed a little further, "How about I just call you Jester..or, even Ace?"

Finally, he moved. But, all he did was raise his eyebrows, blink, and take his eyes off of her. He looked across the room at the wall, a slight smile on his scarred face as his head bobbed lightly, side to side.

His low voice took on a slightly sing-song tone as he said, "Sticks and stones... May.. b_rrr_eea_k_ my bones..." He sort of growled the letter 'r'. Licking his lips, he didn't finish the rhyme. He just stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.

Harleen scoffed slightly, more to herself than to his broken rhyme. She should have known he wouldn't be that easy to get a rise out of. Not this soon, at any rate. Not when she tried it on purpose.

She went back to writing something on her clipboard, eyes lowered to the paper.

His eyes found her again. After a few moments of silence, they rolled around, casually glancing around the room. Head tilted to the side, his tongue slipped quickly over his bottom lip before he spoke, "Mind if I ask a question...?"

She barely had time to look back up at him, before he continued, not giving her a chance to answer.

"Just... what did you _do_.. to get this job?... Hm?" His shoulders shifted a little under the restraints of the jacket, and his eyes moved around the room, "They don't send just a_ny_one in here.. these days..."

She watched him, pen frozen over the paper.

His head lowered, his eyes shifted back to her, looking up at her at an angle through his lashes, "Orrr.. are you just... smar-_t_?" The tip of his tongue toyed, just briefly, with the corner of his mouth, which seemed to twitch slightly as if to smile.

Harleen didn't know why...but his comment almost stung.

He was playing with her, she realized, like she had played with his ambiguous title.

She kept her eyes on him as she summed up a response, "Well...I worked hard, Mister Joker," she said, putting just a little more emphasis on his 'name' than she should have.

Here, he started to giggle, a closed-mouthed sound, deep in his chest, "I bet you did!"

She ignored him and continued, "Most people don't realize what a woman has to put up with to get this far. You might say, there's a lot of incompetent people out there, doing everything in their power to make life miserable for the people that want to take things seriously."

By this time, he had stopped giggling, and he was no longer staring at her. Instead, he was looking straight ahead again, but not at the wall. It was like he disappeared for a moment as his head turned this way then that.

His eyes rolled from left to right, up then to the side, and quietly he said, "Serious..." His red lips twisted as he played with the word, "Seerriiou_ssss_... Sooo.. _Serrrioussss!_"

Nodding his head, tonguing the corner of his lips absent mindly before he looked back at her, he gave her an intense stare, "Whh_yyy_ would you ever want to be... so... Seriouusss_s-uh_?" He almost growled at her, shaking his head a bit like a dog to manipulate the last word, putting extra pronunciation on the final 's'.

All Harleen could do for a moment was stare at him. The way he looked at her right now sent shivers through her that she could barely hide. That well-worn, patchy paint of his really creeped her out.

Taking her eyes off of his, but not lowering her head, she went back to writing something on the paper.

A moment later she met his gaze again, which he hadn't shifted away, and her face was stone and emotionless, though her eyes betrayed her resolve, "Most of my patients have a similar outlook on life. 'Life is no good without a laugh', and all of that. I'd like to know what makes you think you're any different from those men,"

By now he had stopped looking at her, apparently becoming interested with something on the ceiling. Licking his lips unconsciously as he tilted his head this way and that, like trying to get a better look.

"Are you really that more brilliant than those dime-a-dozen criminals up the hall who think that, because they kill, they should be feared? That they're untouchable? That by some divine joke, they're making this world a better place by removing those in their way?"

Harleen leaned forward a little, making the chair creak just slightly. Which catches his attention again, and he looks back over at her, brows slightly raised as if he only just realized she was talking.

She looked into his dark eyes, hidden so well by the over-dried black paint around them, "What makes you..this 'Joker'?"

He sort of lolled his head to the side when she finished, looking up at her from an angle. His eyes blinked rapidly a few times, and then they rolled around a little, left eye squinting halfway.

Biting the inside of his bottom lip as he worked his mouth a little, he finally seemed to come up with something, "Ah.." He said, smacking his lips loudly as he leaned his head over in the other direction now, "You wanna know what the difference is between us? Me and..._Them_?" He tossed his head a bit on the that word, eyes rolling.

Nodding softly before she had a chance to do so herself, he continued, "They.. uuh, they thin_k_.. they should be feared." His tongue darted between his lips, moistening the bottom one, "But me? Ya see.. me.. I _know_. I do." he nodded slowly at her, tilting his head to the side and giving her an innocent look that reminded her of a child.

"Ya see.." Running his tongue quickly between his lips, he took his eyes off of her for a moment to glance around the room, like he was making sure not to be heard. He leaned a bit closer to her, "To them, it's all about money." The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, and he made a face like he'd tasted something bad, "The more money.. the more... everything." Slowly, he brought his eyes back to hers, and he blinked once, "But _me_... Ya see..with me, it's not about.._money_. It's about the _mess_age...the.._effec__-__t_."

He widened his eyes a little on the word 'effect', then he mouthed it slowly a couple of times, eyes flickering around, twisting his jaw around a bit as if trying to get accustomed to it.

Harleen watched him do this, surprised to realize she was strangely fascinated by it. She waited quietly to hear more.

Finally, smacking his lips, he hung his head lazily to the side, "So. What makes you think _you_ are so special..Hmm?" He asked suddenly.

She blinked, and it took her a moment to come up with an answer for him, "Me? Don't you know that no one here is special?" she quipped briefly.

Going back to writing, she took her eyes off him, before she finally continued, not bothering to look back up, "You, me..we're all insignificant. You could get yourself out of that jacket and kill me, and what? A couple more years in Arkham?"

She didn't even notice that he wasn't looking at her anymore. He was busy staring at the light above their heads, head cocked to the side like a curious dog.

"Maybe I have a gun in my bag. Maybe I could shoot you, here and now, and no one would miss you," she said.

He glanced over at her at this, giving her a bored expression, but said nothing.

"I don't think I have anyone that would miss me," she said slowly, quieter than before. Raising her eyes at last, she met his gaze, "What's in a single death?" She hadn't really been thinking as she'd said this last part. Her first comment should have been her last…but, for some reason, her inner thoughts had just slipped out of her, as if in confession.

So, Harleen was a little surprised at the sudden glint in his dark eyes. A smile crept slowly over his scarred face, and he looked at her like he was appraising a rare jewel, "But that's _exactly_ what I've been saying!" he said excitedly.

"What _is_ in a death?" He blinked, his tongue darting out to lick the corner of his mouth, "People die every day… Does it _re_ally matter how?"

Pausing, he shifted a little on the floor, rocking side to side, "Soldiers arrre blow_n_ up in deserts," he drug his tongue over his bottom lip slowly, "Gang_bang_ers are shot on the streets. Babies are drowned by their parents…,"

He raised his eyebrows as he nodded at her, and smacked his lips, "And people don't care. But, uuhh," his eyes rolled up and down briefly, "You say that _one_ lil' ol' Mayor will die? And everyone just _loo_ses their _minds_!"

The Joker shifted his weight on the floor, rolling his shoulders against the tight jacket. Harleen had stopped writing, and was staring at him intently.

He fixed her with a look, a look that reminded her of a four-year-old, asking the inevitable question 'Why?'

"Just..who is it that decides the difference? Hmm?" He asked, lids half closed and watching her from the corner of his eye.

All Harleen could do was shake her head, almost as if in a daze. It was a question she'd asked herself many times…and the answer always eluded her, as well.

She didn't know what to think as she discovered that he was actually making sense to her.

"So," he said suddenly, making her jump a little, "Could you do i-_t_?"

Focusing back on him, she realized she'd just been staring at him. Not that it looked like he minded much, "What?" she asked, blinking.

His eyes rolled around and he turned his head from side to side before he gave her a patient look one might give an A.D.D. child, "Could. You. K_ill_. Me?" he said slowly, as if she was hard of hearing.

Harleen blinked again, confused. Where had that question come from?

"What?" She asked again.

"_What_?" He mimicked her, raising his voice to a higher pitch. His head tossed a little as he giggled, briefly, then his eyes rolled a bit and he looked at her again. Smiling.

"You said..," he began, licking his lips quickly, "That maybe you had a gun. That, maybe, you would shoot me. I wanna know..if you would." Leaning forward, he lowered his voice, like sharing a secret with her, "Coul_d_ you pull…the trig-_gerrr_?"

Now Harleen was at a loss. What did she say? Could she shoot this man, this murderer, if she had the chance? Would she?

She was quiet for a few moments, studying him. As she watched him watching her, she came to the conclusion that he must be baiting her. He was good at this game, of course. He knew how to play with people's minds…just like he knew how to play with their fear.

Well, she wouldn't take this bait. No matter how much she wanted to answer that, yes, she thought she could do it.

Her eyes, however, seemed to tell him exactly what he wanted to know. Because he smiled, a slow movement that pulled the corners of the scars further up his cheeks.

His eyes were dark as he watched her..and they held…something she couldn't identify. It made her uneasy, the way he was looking at her.

Harleen cleared her throat at last, scribbled something on her paper, and tried not to look at him as she said, "I think that's really all the time we have today, Mr. Joker."

"Oh, of cour_ss_e-_uh_," He responded in a suddenly cheerful tone, his face taking on the expression of what appeared to be delight.

As she stood and started to get her things together, he spoke again, and she looked up at him, "One..more..ques_t_ion?"

She said nothing, but waited as he licked his lips slowly, working his mouth a little, he sucked in his bottom lip, "I _won_der.. uh," his voice trailed for a second, his eyes wandering away momentarily, "I wanna know.._why_ you wanted this job. Why you wanna be-e..ah, a psycho the_rap__-_ist?" he said slowly, eyeing her.

Looking up at up at her, head angled a bit, he said, "Does it thrill you, _Doc_tor? Talking to murderers and.. _lu-un_a-ti_c_s-ah?" He had shaken his head on the last word, his voice raising a couple of octaves, his wiggling mouth adding a strange under-watery sound to it.

With a purposefully final shake of his head, he was looking up at her again. Waiting.

It took Harleen a moment to bring herself back to reality to respond to him. His actions, so strange and random, but somehow…alluring…had left her stunned for a second.

Her mouth was so dry, she hardly noticed she was talking, "I started this job hoping to unlock and explore the mysteries of the criminal mind," she said slowly, quietly, "I must admit, I do have something of a…fascination…with your type."

He blinked slowly, and she faltered a little, "Well..I - I guess there isn't really a _'your'_..type. You're really..quite…unique." Harleen stopped, realizing what she was saying. She was giving him too much, and she knew better than that. Why had she said that?

He, on the other hand, looked rather pleased. Even as he mouthed the word to himself, then tossed his head, grinned, and repeated in a cheerful voice, "Uni_que_, " but he said it so it sounded like 'Uni_kah_!', and he nodded happily, "I like that."

Looking up at her again, still smiling, he gave her a look something like a lovable but mischievous puppy, and she became all sorts of flustered.

Lowering her eyes, she pretended to be busy balancing everything in her hands.

Finally, she met his gaze again, trying to give him a stern and defiant look, holding her head up high, "That's really all for today, Mr. Joker. Have a pleasant week." She said as flatly as she could manage, very ready to leave.

"Ah..by all means," he said, his face still cheerful and his voice openly friendly, like a host in a new house, "Feel fr_ee_ to stop by any time!"

With that, she nodded at him and turned to the door. It opened seemingly on it's own, and she swept through it and into fresher air. She shut the door behind her with a dull bang.

The lights went back out the second the door was sealed.

In the dark, the Joker was smiling to himself.


	3. Fresh Paint

a/n: Ok, I've renamed it _**Two of a Kind: Corruption**_, because it looks like this'll be a multi-part story, it just depends on how it goes. And for anyone that's bothered to get this far, I thank you. I'm pretty much taking a shot in the dark with this Fic…so I hope it will turn out _half_ as good as it is fun to think about! At this point, I'm also hoping I am doing a decent job in portraying the Joker…after all, he's not exactly an easy character to get into, and even harder to get out of!...but I try my best, and he is working with me..however impatiently, lol. My apologies if he doesn't seem totally…himself at times. Anyways, I try, so keep that in mind. Please review to let me know what you think, or give suggestions or whatever. I'd love to hear how I'm doing so far. Oh! And this chapter earns its rating of 'M', for almost-rape and adult material. e/n

It had been three days since Harleen had seen the Joker. Their first session had been..strange, for sure. It had frightened her. But what had frightened her the most about it had been herself.

She had thought and said things that had never come to the surface before…some things that she hadn't even known were there. For some reason, they had surfaced while speaking with the Joker.

Maybe it had been his magnetic personality. More than one nurse had told her since then that, despite his looks, that man could be the most charming person alive...if he really wanted to be.

It was how one nurse had been sent home at the beginning of the week with a broken jaw and fractured wrist. The poor woman still refused to talk about what had happened.

He was terrifying. But, like a horrible accident…one couldn't help being drawn in for a closer look.

The day after her first session with the Joker, she had gone to her supervisor, and had asked him to be reassigned.

He had told her that she had to have at least three more sessions with him. Otherwise, it would show poorly on her record. So, that was that..she would have to see the Joker again.

For now, though, she tried to keep her mind on other things, other patients.

Harleen was busy in Arkham today, making her rounds. At the moment she had stopped by to see Professor Crane. He had worked with experiments in fear. Over a year ago, he had used his toxins on the city of Gotham to help some mad man that still had yet to be identified. Gotham had nearly torn itself apart in terror.

Crane had been sentenced here on the hopes that, seeing some of his victims, he would realize the wrong he'd done and be rehabilitated. Harleen doubted that would happen.

As she checked the Professor's pulse, pupils, and spoke with him lightly about how he was feeling, in the back of her mind she was thinking about how today was Friday.

She would have a whole weekend of peace and quiet before she had to see the Joker again. It was a thought that kept her going, as tired as she was, and gave her a goal to look forward to. She only wished the weekend could last a little longer to delay her next session with him even more.

Meanwhile, however…

"Hold still!" The orderly growled at him, working to undo the straps of the jacket.

Anxious for freedom, his arms had tried to unwrap themselves before the jacket was even off.

So, the Joker held still, as was told. He took the time to look around the shower room, a bored and vacant expression on his face, licking and smacking his lips unconsciously.

When the jacket was finally taken off of him, he moved his arms and rolled his shoulders, craning his neck to the side. Several loud 'pops' were heard coming from both.

"Alright, get goin'." The orderly, his name tag stating that he was 'Tom', said.

Still busy glancing around the room, though, head tilted far to the right, he didn't hear him. Or he ignored him, either way.

Tom sighed irritably, and reached up to shove the back of the Joker's shoulder, hard enough to push him forward. The Joker stumbled, only a little, then righted himself.

His expression wasn't quite so bored or vacant anymore.

But Tom, behind him, didn't notice this. Nor did the other two orderlies, still standing near the door, talking.

Licking his lips, he caught sight of the table along the wall a few feet away. On it lay a few grooming items, which his eyes flickered over quickly. A plastic comb, nail clippers, a sample-sized jar of deodorant, toothbrush and toothpaste, and even a few Q-tips. Extra towels and washcloths were also provided.

Moving over to the table, his eyes rolled left to right, up and back to the left, and he blinked rapidly. Picking up the plastic comb, he studied it for a moment, turning it this way, then the other as if looking for something.

Tom had come up beside him, at this point, looking even more irritated. "I said, get in the shower, _freak_!" He growled, and reached up to grab his shoulder, no doubt to push him again.

The Joker smacked his lips thoughtfully, licking the corner of his mouth, and nodded at the comb.

Then, all at once, he pressed the flat handle of the comb to the edge of the table at an odd angle, and with the heel of his other hand, he slammed down on it, snapping the handle down along its length to create a perfect point at the end.

A split second later, he had Tom's hand from his shoulder in his own and twisted that arm around the man's back and held it there, simultaneously grabbing the back of Tom's hair with his comb hand and forcing the orderly's head down, slamming it onto the edge of the table twice; it broke his nose and shattered the bone behind his eyebrow.

And then he had his arm around him, comb at his throat, yanking him back up and wrestling him around to face the other two men, who had only just come out of their shock and started forward. They stopped, looking horrified.

The Joker smiled at them, and drove the tip of the sharp plastic point deep into Tom's neck. Not too deep, but deep enough. One swift movement would sever the main artery.

Holding Tom in front of him, he turned his head to the side and gave them a warning look, mouth working as he chewed on his bottom lip. Then he twisted Tom's arm behind his back more forcefully, causing the man to cry out.

Blood poured down over Tom's face from the gash above his eye, and his two buddies, looking pale and panic-stricken, started yelling at the same time, "Let him go!" "Leave him alone!" And so forth.

Looking from one to the other, he grinned, digging the point deeper into Tom's neck to make him stop struggling, and focused on the one of the left, "What? I'm sorry?" he called over them, screwing up his face like in an effort to hear them better.

"What do you want?" The one on the left asked frantically.

Suddenly, he held very still. So did Tom, because he had no choice. Meeting the orderly's eyes, he turned his head, and gave him an innocent look.

"I just wanna talk to Quinzel."

Harleen was just finishing with the Professor when a voice on the intercom broke the silence, "Miss Quinzel, you are needed in the bathing area. Please report to the bathing area NOW."

She frowned softly. It hadn't been announced, but somehow she knew the Joker was involved.

And she'd been having such a nice three days.

Sighing, she made sure the Professor was comfortable, and patted his arm in a friendly manner as she turned to leave.

Professor Crane grabbed her hand at the last moment, and she turned to look down into his eyes, strangely unfocused as he asked her, "What are you afraid of, Doctor?"

Harleen swallowed softly, placing her hand on top of his. "I think I'm going to go see it now." She replied mournfully, and took his hand off her arm and set it gently down on the arm of the chair. And with that, she left before he could stop her again.

The scene in the shower room had not changed much. Except there was more blood, staining Tom's face and the front of his cloths.

The Joker rocked from foot to foot anxiously, making Tom rock with him. Every so often his fingers flexed on the comb, or he twisted the point if it around in the orderly's neck just enough to make Tom squirm.

When Harleen walked into the shower room, she stopped short, gasping softly, her eyes wide. She didn't know what she'd expected, but it hadn't been this.

She pulled herself together quickly, though, as she surveyed the tense scene before her.

The Joker was looking at her. His expression was fierce and yet…somehow…extremely calm.

He smiled when he saw her, and he licked his lips, "Well _hell_o-o-o, bea_u_tiful," he greeted her in a cheerful voice, craning his head over Tom's shoulder to get a better look at her.

Eyeing him, she asked in the calmest voice she could manage, crossing her arms over her chest, "Mr. Joker, what are you doing?"

"_Me_?" he asked in an innocent voice, glancing to either side like he was looking for someone else.

When he met her gaze again, he tilted his head over to rest it against Tom's. Then there was a soft 'snap', followed by Tom's whimper as he broke the orderly's finger behind his back. He widened his eyes as if in surprise, and sucked in his bottom lip. Then he turned his head, looking at her from the corner of his eye, and with a grin he said in a calm voice, "I'm nego_tiat_ing."

Shifting Tom just a bit more to the right, he rested his chin down on the orderly's shoulder, and his expression was both calm and dominating at once, "You aren't _too_ busy, are you? Cause," he licked his lips, eyes rolling up and to the left, "If you are, uh, we can _al_ways do this another time."

The smile he was giving her made Harleen's stomach turn just a little. Glancing quickly to Tom's pale, blood covered face, she met the Joker's waiting gaze again. She made her decision quick, for everyone's sake.

"Out." She said to the two orderlies near her, without even looking at them, "Take your friend with you."

She could see them give her a look from the corner of her eye, a hesitant look, and she risked a quick glance at them, "He won't stop you. He just wants to talk with me." Meeting his eyes again, she asked, "Right, Mr. Joker?"

Turning his face away from her, but still gazing at her from the corner of his eye, he looked like he was deeply considering her offer, right eye squinting dramatically. His fingers flexed on the comb against Tom's throat, and the orderly inhaled brokenly.

Finally, licking his lips, he nodded and gave her a half smile.

The other two orderlies moved forward, slowly, carefully. The Joker only watched them, not even a hint of interest in his dark eyes.

Reaching out for Tom, they paused and seemed to give him a pleading look, waiting. He didn't release the orderly right away. He was watching Harleen. Then the corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes rolled upward a little as he made a soft 'Mm' sound in the back of his throat, as if he was doing something he really didn't want to do. He let go of Tom and pushed him into the arms of his friends.

It took about five seconds for all three of them to rush from the room, closing the door behind them.

And then, Harleen was left alone with the Joker. A full minute of silence passed, so tense, at least on her end, she could hardly stand it.

The Joker studied the comb in his hand, pressing the bloodied point of it into the palm of his free hand to test how sharp it really was. Giving it a strangely doubtful expression, one eyebrow raising suspiciously at it, he shrugged and tossed it causally over his shoulder.

Making a show of dusting off his hands, he smacked his lips and said suddenly, "_So_!" Looking up at her at last, he tilted his head a bit to the left and smiled, opening his arms wide as if he would hug her, "Miss Quin_zel-l-l_.." He drug out her name, taking his time with the 'L', "You haven't been back to see me."

It was a statement, but the way he said it made it sound like a question.

Drawing in a slow, calming breath, she broke eye contact with him, "It's been busy…"

He turned his head now to the right, leaning a bit closer on one foot, brows lowering and head tilting down a little to look up at her at an angle.

"Alright, fine, that's bullshit." She said more firmly, giving him an irritated stare, "I just didn't want to see you. Talking with you isn't really that…pleasant."

Working his mouth a little, he sucked on his teeth for a second, still looking at her from an angle. Then he licked his lips and his shoulders almost shrugged, "_Well_..at least you are h_on_est."

His expression changed completely. He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes before blinking a couple of times, and his tongue toyed with the right corner of his mouth for a second. Turning, his hands in the air as if in surrender, he moved back over to the table.

She remained where she was, watching him carefully, ready if he tried anything.

When he reached the table, he moved down along it, taking a few steps towards the farther end, then taking a few more back to where he started. He tapped his fingertips along the tabletop as he did, his eyes glancing over the items laying on it.

He caught sight of himself in the plexi-glass-covered mirror over the table, and tilted his head at it.

Harleen watched him; he was anxious about something, she could tell by the way he paced like that, the almost-jerky movements he made. She felt herself grow anxious, too.

Finally, he turned around, bringing his hands together in a loud clap that made her jump slightly. His face was open and cheerful, or as cheerful as the Joker could look, as he said, "Down to business, then!"

Rubbing his hands together, he then swung them outward as if gesturing to the whole room, "What I could _real_l-e-e use," Now he gestured with both hands to his own face, tilting his head to the right and licking his lips, "Is a fre_sh_ coat of paint."

She blinked. That certainly hadn't been expected. Of all the things that had crossed her mind that he might say, that wasn't one of them.

"A...fresh coat of paint?"

He nodded enthusiastically at her, licking his lips frantically. Still gesturing to his face, his fingers wiggled in the air near his cheeks, like this was supposed to prove a point. Then he lazily waved at her with one hand, his eyes rolling up and over to the left, "Call it your duty..as my doc_tor_, to-o-o..uh..accom_mo_date me."

She blinked again. Studying his face, she could see what he meant. The makeup was long over dried, smeared, and wore off in more than one place, patches of skin showing through.

Coming back to her senses, she shrugged, "I don't even know if there is anything like that in the hospital." She didn't really want to find out, either, if only just because she didn't really want to be _here_, let alone on a scavenger hunt for this man.

"_Well-l-l-l-ah_," he said, head twisting from side to side sort of like he was shaking his head impatiently at a dumb child, "_Find_ some then." He told her, and clucked his tongue at her.

He was nodding at her again, brows raised and eyes slightly wide in a look of trying to convince her.

Harleen studied him for a moment or two. She supposed she couldn't really see the harm in it, especially if it kept him peaceful. Uncrossing her arms, she gave him a single nod, her face stern and determined, "I'll see what I can do."

He giggled, and he suddenly looked very excited, bouncing up and down a little and clasping his hands together, "Goo_d_!" He exclaimed, giving her a huge smile that stretched the scars further up his cheeks.

He reminded her of a little kid, just having been told he was getting a present.

She watched this with what felt like a new interest in him, though she didn't show it. He looked so...happy. And she found herself strangely glad that she was able to make him look like that.

As she turned to leave, he had become distracted with smoothing down the front of his grey shirt, picking off a piece of lint that, as far as she could see, was not there. Wiggling his fingers out in the air, like he was dropping said piece of lint to the floor, he looked at her, "I'll wai_t_ here."

With that, he linked his fingers together in front of him, and stood perfectly still and straight as could be.

When she turned around and headed for the door, he leaned his whole upper body over to the right, legs straight, letting his head hang down, watching her walk away. Licking his lips slowly, he made an appreciative sort of sound in his throat as he studied the way her hips swung, and smacked his lips quietly.

A slow, sly smile crept over his face.

Harleen left without another word, feeling…strange.

She didn't even like this man. Why the hell was she doing him any favors?

For his safety, she ordered the guard, who had been sent in place of the three orderlies, to wait out in the hall until she got back. He didn't argue, and she was glad he didn't.

Fifteen minutes later, Harleen finally made it back. All she had been able to find was tubes of white, black, and red paint from the asylum's art room. It had taken some doing convincing the stubborn 'Art Teacher' to give them up without a reason why, but she'd finally managed it. She only hoped they would be good enough for him to use…he didn't quite seem like a picky person, but you just never knew with him.

The guard told Harleen that, last time he had checked, the Joker was in the shower. Then he had asked her if she would like him to take the paints inside. She'd kindly refused.

For whatever strange reason there could be, she wanted to be the one to hand over the paints. Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to coax a 'Thank you' out of him. The thought made her smile, even if she had to hide it, and deep down she felt a little anxious about it.

So, inhaling slowly, the prize in her hand, she opened the door and stepped inside.

A wall of thick steam greeted her. It was hard to see more then five feet in front of her, and she peered through the steam to see where he was, moving slowly into the room.

She heard him before she saw him.

He was humming, some random tune that she didn't recognize, occasionally saying little things like, "_BumBum-be-dumdum_" in a sing-songish voice.

Judging from the location of his voice, and the fact she heard water running, he was still in the shower. He probably didn't even know she was in here.

As she listened to him 'sing', she was overcome with something. Curiosity.

The professional woman in her told her it was wrong…but that curious streak won out. Moving slowly, quietly, she made her way over to the tiled partial wall separating the actual showers from the room, the paints still cradled in her hand.

She passed the wall, and paused to look around. It took her a few moments to realize that, even though it was him alone showering, he had gone around and turned on all twelve shower heads on full blast. No wonder there was so much steam, the heat of it was already making her skin slick from moisture.

Reaching up to brush aside a strand of hair that had fallen into her face, she caught sight of him. He was using the very middle shower, just a several feet in front of her. All she could really make out was a basic shape and outline of his form. He was pretty well hidden by the fog around him.

Harleen was at a loss as she stared at his naked form. True, she couldn't see much…but she could see enough to make her blush. He was back to her, and she stared at the smooth, water covered skin of his back. His wet hair fell down onto his shoulders in little rivulets.

She never even noticed that she licked her lips. Part of her argued that this was wrong, so wrong of her to be spying on him. But…that deeper, naughty side told her it was perfectly natural to be curious about a serial killer's naked body. She wanted to be a criminal psychologist, after all. Anything like this could be helpful to her research.

Right?

Suddenly, she realized that he had turned around.

He was looking at her, eyes squinting and head leaning to the right as he tried to see her better. She was wearing white, and it was probably a bit harder to see her in the heavy steam.

Before she could react, he had moved, and then he was grabbing her from behind. His left arm wrapped around her and captured both hands in his and pinned them to her chest. His right hand simultaneously fisted in her hair, and all at once he twisted them around and pushed her forward and up against the tiled wall that had been behind her.

Her forehead smacked against the hard tile, not hard enough to really bruise, but hard enough to stun her. She gasped, and then his hand had let go of hers and covered her mouth.

He moved up behind her, pressing his chest hard against her back, crushing her against the wall so she couldn't move.

Harleen tried to cry out, but his grip on her mouth was strong, and it wasn't heard over the running water all around them.

It was then that she felt it, as he pressed his body forcefully against hers. Against the back of her thigh, over her skirt, she could feel his erection, and she was overcome with fear.

The world around her disappeared at the feel of his hot breath against the back of her neck.

She started to whimper as he began thrusting his hips against her, the fabric of her skirt making little difference to him.

"_ShhShhh Shhh…_" He practically groaned in her ear. She closed her eyes tight as he ground himself brutally against the back of her leg. She felt tears sliding down her cheeks. Her whimpers were soon drowned out by the animal-like grunts he was making with each quick, hard thrust against her.

It only lasted a few minutes, but to Harleen it felt like forever.

His fingers twisted painfully in her hair, the arm around her chest tensed and held her so tightly against his chest it took the air right out of her.

The sound he made as he came was like nothing she'd ever heard, something between a powerful growl and a sadistic giggle. She actually felt her heart stop as he made it against her ear.

With a few last, jerky thrusts against her, he was finished. He breathed heavily as he took her earlobe between his teeth, and bit it, growling in a darkly playful way. She made a broken, sobbing sound that was muffled by his hand, and fought to breath as he refused to loosen his hold or let her go for a moment longer.

He let her go at last. Patting her ass roughly, he leaned around to look at her face. He was smiling when she opened her eyes, his unpainted face inches away from hers.

He licked his pale lips as he studied her face, leaning his head to the side as his eyes followed the track of tears down her visible cheek.

Then, he saw the paints, still clutched in her hand, between her chest and the wall.

"Ah!" He said, smacking his lips loudly. Reaching up, he pried them out of her hand, turned, and strolled away and around the corner of the wall, out of her line of vision.

Leaning against the wall, shaking all over, Harleen just stared ahead, listening to the sound of him tossing the paint tubes onto the table.

It occurred to her that she needed to keep sight of him so he couldn't sneak up on her again.

In a daze, she moved slowly along the wall to come to the end of it, and looked around it. Some of the steam had been sucked up by the fans in the ceiling by now, and she could see him much more clearly.

He was getting dressed now, pulling on the pajama-like grey pants.

She watched as he grabbed a towel and wiped off the mess he'd made on his stomach as casually as if dusting off a shirt. Which he put on next, sliding the matching grey shirt over his head with one hand and tossing the towel away with the other.

Moving closer, her mind hardly even registering that she was moving at all, she came to stand a few feet away, slightly behind and to the left side of him, so she could see his face.

Her arms were still held against her chest, and she lowered them to her sides automatically.

He stepped up to the table, and shook his head violently, wet hair whipping around his face. Like a dog, she thought dully.

After he was done with that, he wobbled slightly, eyes blinking lazily, and reached up with both hands to smooth back his wild hair.

Looking into the mirror, his tongue prodded at the left corner of his mouth. Out of nowhere, she was hit with the fact that, without the makeup, he was stunning...even with the horrible, thick scars on either side of his mouth. He grabbed the tube of white paint, and poured some onto his fingers and started applying it.

Harleen watched him, seemingly mesmerized by the way he turned his face, this way and that. Scrunching his eyes or moving his mouth. Tilting his head up, down, to this side, then the other as he covered his skin with the white liquid, licking his lips periodically as he worked.

Even though he worked quickly, he was very efficient about it, covering completely, if not totally evenly.

When he was done with the white, he tossed it down and rubbed the paint into his hands before he picked up the black next. Pouring it onto his fingertips, he painted it thick around his eyes.

She knew that he was completely ignoring her, even though she was sure he could see her. For that reason, she didn't move, afraid that if she did, he would grab her again.

Dropping the black onto the table, rubbing his hands again, he picked up the red.

It was only as he started applying the red to his lips that Harleen truly believed that she had to be in shock. It wasn't normal to be so fascinated by him painting his face like this. Was it?

Well of course she was in shock. He had basically raped her just a few minutes ago, and now here he was, putting on makeup as if nothing had even happened.

Finishing with covering his lips, he started with the scars. She noticed that he took special care here, touching a bit more gently and tracing along the jagged edges of them in a somewhat reverent way.

He was done. Harleen jumped slightly when he dropped the red onto the table, the sound seeming to echo.

Grabbing a dry towel, he used it to remove the paint from his hands, eyes focused on his task, and smacking his lips and working his mouth around to press the red paint on his lips.

That towel is ruined, she thought stupidly.

He abandoned the towel to the floor and looked up into the mirror. He turned his face from left to right, appraising his work. His eyes rolled around in all directions, blinking. Then he gave his reflection a dark look and a smile.

Turning around to face Harleen, his eyes widened a little, like he hadn't known she was there the whole time. Blinking, he seemed to forget what to do for a second, turning to look down at the table.

Picking up the tubes of paint, he strolled right over to her with long, smooth strides. He held out his hands, palms up, the tubes resting in them.

When she just stood there, staring at him blankly, he raised his left eyebrow at her, and tilted his head just slightly to the right, and nodded at her.

Finally, she understood what he wanted, and raised her own hands palms up and side-by-side. He dropped the paints into her hands. Then, he reached up with his right hand and knocked the bottom of her chin with the side of his index finger, giving her a dramatic wink, flashing her a huge red smile, and making a clicking noise at her.

He turned around after that, and left her standing there, dumbfounded, as he opened the door and walked out, just as casually as could be.

A moment or two later, Harleen snapped out of her trance-like state. She inhaled deeply, shook her head and squared her shoulders, and raised her chin up defiantly to the room.

She refused to let anyone know what had happened. Ever.

She became sort of robotic as she walked over to the door, opened it, and walked out.

A new orderly that she recognized as Anthony was already putting the straight jacket back on the Joker. He was holding out his arms, like a mummy, waiting patiently and looking very uninterested as the jacket was slipped over his arms. He still held them up, the straps dangling over the floor, as the orderly worked to fasten the back.

She waited as Anthony then grabbed the straps and wrapped them around his waist, forcing his arms to cross. Tying them up tightly, he checked it over, then nodded at her.

Harleen turned and started down the hallway, followed a second later by the Joker, and then Anthony and the guard.

She could feel someone staring at her back, and she turned without thinking to see who it was, though she was sure she knew.

Sure enough, the Joker's eyes were fixed on her, but not on her back. He was watching her hips as she walked. His tongue was stuck between his lips, but she could see it dragging slowly over the bottom one, like he was savoring the taste of something.

He looked up at her face a heartbeat after she turned to him, and she gave him a subtle, but hateful, stare.

In response, the corners of his mouth slid up into a slow grin, tilting his head down so that his dark eyes looked up at her from under his eyebrows. He then leaned his head over to the left.

The look reminded her of a predator, stalking his prey, and she turned back around quickly, feeling a cold chill in her very soul.

She ignored him the rest of the walk back to his room, even though she could still feel his eyes on her back every step of the way.

Finally, they had reached his cell. The guard opened the door for them. Anthony ushered the Joker inside, and she followed the both of them into the room.

Once inside, the Joker walked right on over to the farthest corner. Flopping himself against the padded wall, he sat down heavily on the cushioned floor.

He settled himself into the corner just right, and stretched his legs out in front of him.

He crossed his ankles, rested his head back against the wall, and closed his eyes. Then he was very still.

The peaceful, sly smile on his freshly-painted face made Harleen's skin crawl.

Glancing over at Anthony, who shrugged lightly at her, she nodded to him and they both moved out of the room. Anthony closed and locked the door, and the three of them headed back down the hallway, splitting up in different directions at the four-way.

The walk back to her office took less time than she thought it would, as if she'd blacked most of it out. She must still be in shock.

In her office, she locked the door and kept the lights off. There was no camera in here. Just like there'd been no camera in the shower room.

The moment she'd fallen into the chair behind her desk, everything overcame her at once.

Her entire body began to shake, and tears flooded her eyes and she started to sob. Leaning down over her desk, resting her sore forehead down on her arms, she hid her face from the world, and cried.

Behind her closed eyes, all she could see was his painted face, grinning at her, his dark eyes the eyes of a predator.


	4. The Prelude of Jazlyn

A/N: Oh-kay. Here is the deal. Ever since the beginnings of this story, I have wondered about ditching Harley and using a character of my own. Don't get me wrong, Harley is a sweet girl and she means well, but I just cannot get into her. She's too…innocent for me. I have recently been called out on this lack of ability to get into Harley's persona, and it made me rethink my original ideas to give the Joker a playmate of my very own. Thus, Jazlyn Mirez has been born. I think the two of them should get along rather well. They have SO much in common, as you will see on down the road.

So, as for how this will go, by no means do I want you to disregard the last 3 chapters. Merely, look back on them still as a guide to how it got to Ch.5, but remember to leave enough room open for a few possible changes in detail later on. I'm just too lazy to go back and redo them, so work with me, people. This chapter will introduce you to Jazlyn and how she works a bit, and catch you up on how she has gotten here. Remember, I'm still getting to know her, myself, so things may be a bit…fuzzy for a couple chapters…I hope not, but be warned just in case.

I hope I've made what's going on clear enough…if not, feel free to PM me with any questions you may have.

Because of the change in character, I feel a change in Title is also needed to be more fitting. So, now I present to you, _**Two of a Kind: Just Like Gravity**_.

Thank you all for the Reviews, and a special thank you to HoistTheColours for the perfectly timed advice. Without your helpful words, I probably would have given up on this story before long…I was already near the brink of that horrid thought. But now, new life has been breathed into the flames of my wild imagination, and the Joker will get to play here indefinitely.

Thanks again, HoistTheColours. This chapter is for you.

xoxoHAxoxoHAxoxoHAxoxoHAxoxoHAxoxoHAxoxo

She was running late for her graveyard shift at the restaurant. Classes had been behind schedule because everyone was talking about what had happened on the news earlier that day; Harvey Dent had turned himself in as the Batman.

Jazlyn had weaved her way in and out of alleys, trying to find a faster route to the restaurant. Somewhere in the depths of the bad side of town, in some dark random alley, a door was thrown open in front of her as she hurried through the narrow corridor.

She stopped as two young men stepped out and one held the door open. A second later, the Joker walked out of the door, looking from side to side with a pleased grin on his painted face, rubbing his gloved hands together, with his tongue licking furiously at his red lips. He bounced off the little step unto the ground, and then bounced again anxiously. Three more men followed after him. All five of them had guns.

That's when he saw her, standing there staring like a deer in the headlights.

Jazlyn would never forget that first smile he gave her. His eyes had lit up excitedly like a little kid on Christmas as he looked at her.

The five men had started to hurry off down the alley, but stopped when they realized their boss hadn't headed that way himself. By the way they looked at one another, Jazlyn figured they knew better than to rush him.

Instead, the Joker slid right on up beside Jazlyn, and he started to circle her. She was frozen with dread…she had heard so much about him in the last few days…she truly thought she was about to die.

"Mm, you look like fu_n_," he growled at her as he moved around behind her. She felt him lean in close once he was at her back, and he sniffed at the back of her neck. She didn't so much as flinch, but stared straight ahead at the wall, defiant but respectful, as he continued to move around her.

Suddenly, he appeared in front of her. His face inches away from hers. The smell of grease paint, smoke, and sweat was in the air directly surrounding him. It was an intoxicating smell.

Jazlyn realized he had a knife in his hand. It hadn't been there a second ago. He was holding it up near her face so she could see it.

Licking his lips, his eyes flicked over her face, and his brows lowered into a worried expression, "Why do you look so nervous?" he asked in an almost-genuine tone of concern.

He studied her face for a moment, his tongue sliding along between his lips slowly. Then, he nodded, and gestured to his own face with both hands, the blade of the knife flashing softly in the streetlight.

"Is it the scars?" he asked, now raising his brows up high and nodding at her again. Leaning even closer to her, his voice dropped down to almost a whisper, his hands still held up on either side of his face, "Wanna know how I got'em?"

Just then, a cell phone rang. It sounded muffled, even in the quiet of the alley. The Joker's head cocked over to the right, and he chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, giving her a thoughtfully disappointed look, brows lowering dramatically, as he reached down and dug around in a pocket of his purple suite.

The phone rang again even as he pulled it out, and he pushed a button and put it to his ear, "Yeah," A pause, during which Jazlyn watched with extreme interest, not daring to move. He still had the knife in his hand, "Goo_d_." Turning it off, he dropped the phone back into his pocket.

"It's show time_-uh_!" He said to the others, who started off down the alley again. The Joker turned that way, too, but then stopped again and looked at her, and he grinned.

Leaning so close to her she could smell the coffee on his breath, he touched the flat of the knife along the bottom of her jaw, "See ya around," And with another big, red grin, licking at the left corner of his mouth, he turned and strolled off towards the end of the alley.

Jazlyn stood and watched as a semi-truck pulled up across the street, and without hesitating, she walked slowly down the alley after him, staying close to the wall, her eyes locked on the truck, or more specifically, the Joker as he opened the door and hopped up into the cab of it.

The other five men disappeared towards the back, out of her line of vision.

When she reached the entrance of the alley, she stopped and hid herself by the corner. She could just see inside the truck cab, from a mostly frontal angle. Around the back of it, she heard the door closing.

Inside the truck, she heard the Joker's cheerful voice say, "Oh, I've always loved these things!" And she saw him lean over and blast the horn three times, the last two closer together with the final blow drawn out.

The sound of the horn drew the attention of a cop nearby. He walked up to the sidewalk to the driver's side of the truck, and Jazlyn's heart stopped.

Looking inside the cab, she saw the Joker dive behind the driver's seat, which was occupied by a guy wearing a cowboy hat. The cop looked up at the driver and pointed at him, "Hey, you wait just like everybody else, pal," he said.

Now, inside the truck, the Joker came back around the seat with something long in his hands. All in the same instant, he cocked the shotgun even as he leaned around the driver and aimed out the window, and he shot the cop in the face.

The sound of the shotgun echoed through the night air, and Jazlyn couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement, even if she didn't know what it was from.

After that, the Joker said something to the driver, but she couldn't hear it. Then, he opened the door and jumped back out of the truck and moved around to the side of the box.

The truck was apparently for a carnival, because it read, 'Laughter is the best form of medicine.' Only, a large red 'S' had been spray painted in front of it, so now it said 'Slaughter..' instead.

Jazlyn smiled at that, and watched as a sliding door screeched open. Three guys, now wearing clown masks, stood in the opening. One reached down to give the Joker a hand up, but the Joker completely ignored it and grabbed the side of the box and pulled himself up without very much difficulty at all.

_Turn around_, Jazlyn found herself saying to him in her head, _Turn around, turn around..._

He did. Once inside, the Joker turned around, hands on the wall to either side of him, and leaned out the door. He turned his head left to right, looking up the street in both directions. She saw him nod to himself, licking his lips. Then, he banged on the inside of the trailer, and the driver put the truck in gear and they started rolling down the street.

He was still leaning out the door as they passed the alley she was hiding at, the wind making his green-tinted hair fly around his head. He licked and smacked his lips, a determined and excited expression on his face. Reaching up to run his fingers through his hair, then leaned back inside and pulled the door shut just after they passed her.

The truck rounded a corner down the street, and then they were gone, and she felt utterly left behind.

xoxoHAxoHAxoxo

The alarm went off at 6:30am.

The dream lingered in her mind for a moment or two longer, before she finally opened her eyes.

She couldn't believe it. Today was finally the day.

Today, she would get to meet him. The man that absolutely fascinated her like nothing else could, that had done so for many months now.

Today, she would meet the Joker.

Jazlyn Mirez sighed quietly, and sat up so fast it gave her a little head rush. She smiled a bit and stretched her arms over her head and yawned, before turning to slip her feet into her fuzzy purple slippers, then got out of bed.

She found her way easily across her little one-room apartment to the kitchen in the dark, and started the coffee.

Then she moved over to the tiny bathroom, flicked on the light, and looked in the mirror.

Leaning on the sink, she studied her reflection.

Her purple hair was everywhere from tossing and turning all night. She made a couple of random faces at herself, and then sighed dramatically before grabbing the toothpaste, starting the morning ritual.

By the time she was finished in the bathroom, the coffee was ready. It took her four cups to finally start feeling awake and energized.

It was a little after seven when she sat down at her little desk, holding the fifth cup of coffee in one hand. In front of her, lay a yellow folder. The label on the front read, "File Name: The Joker, Gotham City Police Department."

Stealing this particular file had been a little more difficult than she'd first expected it to be. It had still gone smoothly, though; all she'd had to do was take advantage of the confusion in the aftermath of the Joker's bomb that had mostly destroyed the Police Department. Slipping through the destruction to the basement to retrieve the file from the File Room had been a piece of cake, and a rush like she'd never experienced before once it was in her hands.

Opening the folder now, she sipped at her coffee and studied the large picture paper clipped to the inside. It was a standard mug shot from the Police Department.

The Joker's makeup was smeared and a little patchy, his green-tinted hair in disarray, and his expression was of complete boredom as he held up the little black numbered sign and stared somewhere beyond the camera, totally uncaring.

Jazlyn couldn't count the number of hours she'd spent staring at his picture. Studying every detail and committing them to memory.

The bored expression on his face, with the right corner of his mouth curved just a bit into a hint of a sly smile, his eyes half closed and lazy looking…but she knew those eyes weren't lazy at all. His deep, brown eyes held a light of excitement, intelligence, and cunningness, no matter how bored the expression on his face. It was like he was always thinking, always devising some sort of plan.

He probably was.

Reaching with her free hand, Jazlyn touched the tip of her index finger to the picture at the right side of his face, near his eye. Then she slid her finger down along the side of his face, adjusting course to trace along the scar and to his lips, then on over to the other scar.

That night had been important to her. It still was. She dreamt about it nearly every night since.

That night, a stroke of bad luck had brought her into arm's reach of the most dangerous man in Gotham. The most interesting man she'd ever come across. The most deadly…and she had survived him.

Not many people at all could say they survived a run-in with the Joker. But she was one of them.

And their meeting had changed her, somehow. In that time in her life, she'd been stuck in a rut. Her bills were all long past due, she didn't have the money to keep attending college, and it had looked like her dream of working at Arkham would never happen, because nobody would take her seriously.

Jazlyn had always done things her own way, but had still somewhat followed the rules. Following the rules had never gotten her anywhere. It was time for a change.

The Joker was a man that didn't follow the rules, in any sense of the word. And he got things done.

She would follow his example…he was her inspiration to truly take control of her own life. No matter what it took, things would get done now.

And things had gotten done. In a matter of a few months, she had stolen enough money to continue her education, and she had manipulated herself into top of the class, and she had been rewarded with a place on the newest intern team at Arkham Asylum.

Taking her eyes off of his picture, she looked at the single sheet of paper stapled inside. It was all they had on the Joker, and it wasn't even much.

No name, no other aliases, his blood type didn't match anyone in the legal system or otherwise, and neither did his prints. Everything he wore was custom, and he had no wallet or anything else to give away his identification.

It was like the man had never existed before his arrival in the Gotham City News.

The Joker was a mystery, and that made him all the more alluring.

Looking at his picture again, she remembered his hot breath against her face, his intense brown eyes staring into her so interestedly, and she shivered and sipped her coffee as she stood up and made her way back into the bathroom.

She hadn't been able to find a decent long-sleeved shirt, but she would probably be wearing her doctors' coat most of the day, so those sleeves would cover up the scars on her arms just fine.

By the time she was finally ready to leave, it was almost eight, and that gave her half an hour to get to her office and clock in.

Grabbing her keys, she headed out the door and off down the sidewalk to hail a cab.

This was it, there was no going back. She had done so much already to ensure this would happen, including having slept with three hospital board members, and then blackmailing them with the evidence of it, all in order to become the Joker's attending doctor.

Jazlyn didn't think of herself as a whore for it…she was simply a girl on a mission. She didn't regret a thing she had done to reach this point, to get what she wanted.

It would be worth it all in the end. Sitting with him, talking with him, looking at him…it would be worth all the sacrifices she had made, she just knew it.

Smiling, she hugged her bag to her chest and sunk down into the backseat of the taxi, her nerves so worked up she could hardly stand it as they made their way across the city to Arkham.

There was no going back.


	5. Determination

A/N: I can no longer guarantee that all chapters will be long chapters. I'm taking way too much time in writing up the longer ones...the Boss, my terrifyingly beautiful Muse, is quite…uh…irritated with me about it. He wants things to be moving much faster. And what the Boss wants, the Boss gets. Or else.

I have put a picture of Jazlyn on my profile as my avatar, for anyone curious to see what she looks like. I have no idea who the chick in the photo actually is…I found her on some random search, and she stuck.

Yes, I realize that I misquoted the semi-truck in the last chapter. It is supposed to read, of course, "(S)Laughter Is The Best Medicine." and not "..Best Form Of…" Sorry about that.

I fear that since this chapter has taken so long, it may not flow quite right in some way. So, if anything is…off…I apologize. Trust me, I'll pay for it one way or another.

And don't forget to get your copy of The Dark Knight! I'll be heading off in an hour to get mine! :D

xoHAxoHAxoHAxoHAxoHAxoHAxo

"Good morning, Ms. Mirez."

Jazlyn looked up from her paperwork to see a smiling Tony, one of the hospital's janitors, walking past her pushing his cart. She smiled back, giving him a little nod, "Morning, Tony."

They passed each other and that was it. She didn't talk much to anyone around here, because she wasn't here to make friends…not with just anyone, anyway.

There was only one person she was here for, and it wasn't herself.

When Jazlyn reached her office, she fumbled with the keys for a minute, trying not to spill her fresh coffee on herself, before she could finally get the door unlocked and made her way inside, using her foot to shut the door behind her.

Not bothering to turn on the lights yet, she dropped her bag and paperwork onto the small table near the door. Taking a sip of her coffee, she turned to look into the mirror on the wall next to her.

In the shadows, her hair, which was pulled up in a tail with locks framing her face, looked black, but in the small rays of light filtering in through the blinds, she could see the purple in it. She just loved her purple hair…it was a good color on her, and it had come out better than she'd thought it would.

Leaning closer to look at her reflection in the dim light, she stared into her green eyes, giving herself a fierce look.

She had made her decision last night. Over the weekend, Jazlyn had had a lot of time to think. To get things straightened out.

At first, she had been deeply hurt and terrified about what the Joker had done to her in the shower room. Terrified, of course, because he had assaulted her so easily, and hurt because he had betrayed her; she wasn't sure why she felt betrayed…maybe it was because she had thought he'd actually liked her.

Then, the more she thought about it, replaying the event over and over in her mind, the terror had given way to curiosity, and eventually the hurt had turned into a deep respect.

Jazlyn knew, now, that the Joker had set a trap for her. He had been teaching her a couple of things, even if he would never admit it.

The most obvious one, was that spying on the Joker had been a bad move on her part…she shouldn't have done it, she shouldn't have tried to catch him in a vulnerable state, just for her own amusement.

Two, the Joker did not have any "vulnerable states". He was always aware, he always knew.

The third lesson had to be that, if you were going to spy on someone, if you were willing to put yourself at risk like that, do it smarter than she had. Jazlyn laughed at herself now, thinking back on it. How she had just wandered, so aimlessly, into the shower where he could obviously see her.

Well, she would know better next time, now wouldn't she?

_There will be a next time?_

For a while that had confused her, until she really thought about it.

Yes, she _should_ probably turn him in for what he had done. He had assaulted her. But, in the end, could it really be classified as "assault" if, when she thought about it now, she got all hot and bothered over it?

She didn't think so.

The other reason was that her first thoughts about the whole thing, about how he apparently didn't like her like she'd thought he did, weren't true.

The Joker liked her very much. He just had to, didn't he? Why else would he have chosen her? He clearly had wanted to see _her_, not some other random doctor or even a nurse. He had wanted to see her, he had set his trap for her, and it was her that had given him pleasure.

Not some nurse. It was Jazlyn.

On the other hand, what if she was completely wrong, and he had just done what he'd done to her because…she was there. What if it didn't mean anything at all, just a random act of violence like with the orderly, Tom, just because she had been there at the wrong time.

Maybe she was getting in too deep. Maybe she should quit while she was ahead, before she really provoked him to do something awful.

For a whole of five minutes, she had decided she would quit seeing the Joker, and get over this strange crush for him, before it was too late.

Standing in front of the mirror now, using her fingers to arrange the locks of hair hanging by her face, she felt more determined then ever.

Jazlyn was determined to know the truth…and that truth was, if The Joker could be the one and only person on this miserable planet that she could relate to, that would understand where she had come from.

Whatever the reason, why ever he had assaulted her, she would not let him push her away so easily. Jazlyn had sacrificed a lot to be near this man that seemed to haunt her very soul, and she wouldn't give up on him without a fight. She had this horrible feeling that people had given up on him way too many times in his life, why else would he be who he was today?

She wasn't going to be another, if she could help it.

_But what if she was wrong? Maybe she -should- get out while she still could…_

Turning her head to study her makeup, that was when Jazlyn saw it in the mirror, a reflection of something odd on her desk.

Spinning around on her heel, she looked at the object, just sitting there on her desk, confused.

Flicking on the light, she made her way over to the desk, and stared down at it.

It was a single red rose, cradled in a white vase accented by wisps of purple, red, and green. Around the neck of the vase was tied a little card, which she opened carefully.

Inside was a small note, written in bold, red letters like a kid with a crayon, and it read,

"_SMILE!!  
P.S. Come and see me soon!  
- J."_

Jazlyn did smile, and the smile only grew larger each time she read it, each time it told her to do so.

She knew it. Maybe it was a little bold in thinking he 'liked her'…but, this proved that at the very least, he was interested.

Now she knew her answer…she would see him again, as soon as possible, today.

xoHAxoHAxoHAxoHAxo

Jazlyn was still smiling a little as she walked along the corridor behind the orderly. He was messing around with his keys, trying to find the right one before they reached their destination.

She was thinking about that night again, the night she had truly first met him. That night in the alley, where he had decided to let her live, whereas many people did not.

That was the same night he had finally been captured and arrested, in the attempt to retrieve Harvey Dent from the police motorcade. It had been on the news, clips from random civilians lucky enough to have been in he right place at the right time, and the news had run it over and over.

She'd made sure to get a tape of it, and she liked to watch it now and then. It was better than any movie at the theatre. The destruction he had caused, the precision of the whole thing, it gave her chills, and made her regret not hopping into the truck with him.

_And she would have, too, if only he had asked her._

"Have a nice weekend, Ms. Mirez?" a voice, the orderly's, broke into her thoughts, and she looked up at him, giving him a coy little smile before responding, "What makes you say that?"

He shrugged, returning her coy smile with one of his own, "You look happy, that's all. I just figured you'd had a nice weekend." He said.

"It was good enough," she said simply, because he didn't need to know the details, and she was glad he didn't push for any.

"Well, that makes two of us. We didn't have any problems with him over the weekend. He was pretty…peaceful, actually. One of the Administrators came to see him about what had happened to Tom."

Jazlyn's heart froze for a second, her hand clenching a little on the clipboard she held by her hip, "What happened?" she asked, trying not to sound so worried.

The orderly…he finally turned around enough for her to read his nametag, and it read that he was Zeke…gave her another little shrug, "There wasn't much she could do, I guess. Jason and Dillon both said Tom provoked it, and even Tom said it himself, and I guess the Joker's story was the same. When she came out, she said he could be relieved of the jacket and didn't need to be taken to solitary. That was it."

They had reached the door by now, and he'd finally found the right key.

Jazlyn didn't say anything else to Zeke, she was too busy fighting down the wave of excitement running through her that made her want to dance a little.

She was about to walk back into the room of the most dangerous, fascinating man in Gotham…but this time, he wasn't restrained.

Anything could happen. And she secretly hoped that something might.

Zeke opened the door and held it for her, and she inhaled slowly as she stepped over the threshold and into the room. The door was closed behind her, and her excitement rose up again with the knowledge she was alone.

Well, not completely, of course, "Hello there, Ms. Mirez_-uh_," said his low voice, sort of dragging out the 'z' in her name, and she realized she liked it a lot when he did that.

The Joker was sitting behind a small metal table that had been provided for the two of them. He wasn't slouching over the table like her other patients, he was sitting up straight and proper, and his arms were set on the armrests of his chair on either side of him.

His paint was fresh, though it was a little smeared here and there, so she figured he'd had a shower the night before and had reapplied it. She was glad the orderlies had actually taken her up on her advice, and let him use the paints she had left for them; apparently, it had helped to keep him peaceful, like she'd hoped.

He was already smiling at her when she looked at him, and she felt a shiver run up her spine.

Shaking it off, she moved over and sat down in the empty chair across from him, trying not to act as flustered as she felt, "Hello, Mr. Joker. I heard you had a good weekend?" she said, setting her paperwork in front of her and getting settled.

He shrugged and licked at the left corner of his mouth, eyes darting off to the right somewhere for a second, "It was pretty boring, act-u-ally," he said, shifting a little in his seat.

He leaned forward a bit, meeting her eyes, and gave her a little smile, "How about yours?"

That smile, it was both mocking and gentle, somehow, and it made Jazlyn want to shudder again. Resisting the urge, though, she cleared her throat softy and simply answered, "It was alright."

He made a sort of 'Hm' noise in his throat, and leaned back again in the chair, looking away from her. She watched him for a moment or two, as his eyes darted around the room. Once they rolled up towards the ceiling, and he squinted slightly, like a thought had occurred to him, and he chewed at the inside of his bottom lip a little.

Jazlyn dropped her eyes to the paper on the clipboard in front of her, but she didn't write anything. What felt like an awkward silence passed and she cursed herself for not thinking of anything good to ask or say to him.

By the time she had looked back up at him, he had become engrossed in checking out his own fingernails. He held his right hand up in front of him, palm outward, studying his nails with a bored expression on his face.

Even as she watched, he made an exaggerated sighing motion, though he didn't actually sigh, and sucked on his teeth, probably just to hear the noise.

It occurred to Jazlyn that he was waiting for something, and he wanted her to know it.

There was really only one thing he could be waiting for, at least at the present moment that she could think of; the rose.

Inhaling a little to steady her jumping nerves, she sat forward in the chair, and caught his eye when she could, "Thank you for the rose," she said softly, wishing she could sound a little less pathetic.

Looking over at her, he dropped his hand back onto the armrest, and the scars on either side of his face were stretched further up as he gave her a big, red smile. He suddenly looked very excited, "Oh, so you _did_ get it!" he exclaimed, a slight giggle to his voice.

Jazlyn couldn't help but smile in return…she found it strangely satisfying when she could make him look happy like that, "The vase is just…beautiful."

"Like you," he said, quite simply. He gave her a single nod, as of to convince her of this, and licked his lips as he raised his eyebrows at her, still smiling.

She felt herself blush, and really didn't care if he noticed it or not. Deep in her gut, she felt something stir, maybe it was those butterflies that she always got when thinking about him.

Clearing her throat softly, she asked, "How did you get it into my office? It was locked all weekend."

The Joker leaned forward as he turned his head to the right, staring at her from the corner of his left eye, squinting at her and licking quickly at the right corner of his mouth. He opened his mouth to say something but never did, and his eyes rolled upward to the ceiling before he shut them, squeezing them tightly and shaking his head hard.

Opening his eyes again, he leaned even closer, and put his elbow on the table to gesture to her with his whole hand, vaguely pointing at her, "Ah ta-ta-ta," he wagged his finger at her with each word, "A _true_ magician never reveals his secrets," he told her, growling out each of the 'r's.

"Alright then," she said quickly, a little annoyed, "Why did you put it there?"

His left eye squinted and he tilted his head to the right a little, before his eyes rolled around crazily, "Ah, well_-uh_," he said, straightening his head and giving her a funny sort of look, "Why not?" he shook his head a bit, then lowered his brows and then raised them again, looking curious.

Before she could say anything in response, he jumped forward and leaned against the table edge towards her on one arm, and pointed at her with his right hand, "So, listen," His eyes rolled upwards, and for a second he looked distracted, mouth hanging open still. And then the tip of his tongue prodded at the corner of the right scar, and his eyes came back down on her again.

"We have some _un_finished business, you and me," he said, waving his hand to point from himself to her and back again, nodding at her, licking his red lips. He paused, holding up his index finger as if to shush her, eyes blinking and rolling for a second before he continued, smacking his lips, "See, people around here don't want you to, uh, reach the next level. _They_," here he tossed his head a little on the word, rolling his eyes, "Don't know your real…potential."

Jazlyn gave him a strange look, _Where was he going with this?_

"But me, I do," he said, and nodded at her. He licked his lips, eyes shifting briefly towards the door, "I think you have a lo_t_ of potential, but…" trailing off for a moment, he seemed to consider something, looking up at the ceiling and tilting his head over to the right. His hand hovered in the air for a second, and then he pointed at her, "You just need to _use_ it better."

Jazlyn was at a loss for words for a moment, just watching him. The tip of his tongue peeked at the left corner of his mouth, and he was giving her a sort of knowing look.

She couldn't help it, she had to know what he was getting at, "What do you mean?"

The Joker shifted quickly in his seat, moving closer to the table, and he leaned over it, smacking his lips. Bowing his head, he stared down at the tabletop as he used his index finger to trace little symbols on it, a thoughtful expression on his face; it reminded her of a little kid confessing to breaking the lamp, "I know why…you got this job," he said, breathing a little heavily towards the end.

Jazlyn had to lower her head just a tad to make out the smile creeping over his face, hidden by curtains of his messy, green-tinted hair...strangely enough, she noticed that the green tint was much lighter than she remembered it that night in the alley.

She forgot for a second to worry about what he was going to say next, and started to wonder about getting some hair dye for him…if it wasn't for her, she was sure anyone else would let him suffer to not have his paint, and she didn't think that was right at all; it was a part of him, and she believed he should have it….

His voice broke into her thoughts and brought her back to the conversation at hand. She focused back on him just about the time that he looked up at her, head still bowed, giving her an amused smile between the curtains of hair, "Or-r-r," he sort of growled, "should I say…_how_ you got it?" At last he raised his head, and then he cocked it over to the left, tongue flicking over his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth. He raised his eyebrows at her surprised look, mimicking her dramatically.

"How do you know?" She asked, nearly in a whisper, glancing around her to make sure they couldn't be heard even if there was no one there to hear them. The silence of the room around them suddenly seemed to make everything they said so much louder.

Blinking lazily, he looked away from her and stared at the door for a moment, shifting a little in the chair again. It looked like he was completely unfocused for a moment, with his mouth slightly open with his tongue just resting at his bottom lip.

His head cocked over to the right, and then his eyes rolled back over to her with the movement and he licked his lips and pointed at her, "Oh, it's not that I'm…not…flattered," he said with a roll of his eyes, letting his head shake a bit with each word. And then he straightened his head, craned his upper body towards her at an angle, his face turned slightly away and said, quite honestly, "Bu-ut…you were coming here anyway."

He raised his eyebrows, his expression suddenly very open, when she gave him a confused look. He nodded at her, smacked his lips and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, "See, cause," he mouthed the word strangely, as if he wasn't used to it. His tongue prodded at the corner of his mouth before he finished, looking back at her and gesturing to himself, "I made sure of it."

Jazlyn sat in silence for a moment, as everything slowly fell into place. He was just watching her, a patient expression on his painted face and a hint of a smile on his red lips as he waited for her to catch up.

Now she understood something one of the board members had said after they had fucked in his office; _"It's nice to see how far you're willing to go for a job…"_

Suddenly feeling dirty for what she had done, Jazlyn narrowed her eyes at him, and she gave him a hateful look.

The Joker simply smiled, a slow movement that drew the scars up into a horrible red grin. He lowered his head a bit, ringlets of his hair shadowing his dark eyes, and she remembered the look he had given her in the hallway on the way back from the shower room…that look of a predator…of possessiveness.

A second later, as she was opening her mouth to say something, his expression changed into one of mock concern, and he giggled a little, "Oh, don't _worry_ so much!" He exclaimed, leaning back in the chair and touching both hands to his own chest, then gesturing with them between himself and her. Licking his lips, eyes rolling away from her briefly, he leaned back towards her and said in a low voice, "It's not gonna change a thin_g_ between us."

"I didn't know that there was a 'thing' between us?" She asked before she could help herself, completely forgetting about the comment before.

Lowering his brows a little, he tilted his head at her, shaking it just slightly, "Of course there is," and if she didn't know any better, which she did, she could have sworn he sounded a little hurt.

Now it was her turn to speak before he could say anything further, feeling a rise of jealously for some reason, "Do you have a 'thing' with the nurses, too?"

His brows came together in a sort of scowling motion, and he lowered his head, turning his face slightly away from her. Sucking in his lower lip, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. Then he smacked his lips, gave her a very wide expression, raising his brows, "Uh, _no-o-o_," he shook his head and said slowly, "No. You don'_t_. Get i_t_."

Leaning forward and putting both elbows on the table, he let his hands hover in the air sideways, and wiggled all ten fingers in her direction, "See…we have something _special_," Jazlyn could practically feel the surge of anxiousness in him right now, as he fisted his hands and shook them a bit, practically growling the words, "I wanna get to _know_ you!"

"But the whole point of these interviews is for _me_ to get to know _you_, not the other way around," She interjected quickly, giving him a sort of playful little smile. Then she let her smile fade, and she made sure to keep eye contact with him as she said in a low voice, "Besides, I think you know me well enough."

The Joker paused in mid-lick, turning his head to the right. Jutting out his chin, he chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, the black holes around his eyes narrowing as his brows lowered way down, and he gave her a long, studying look.

It felt like he was dissecting her with his mind, and digging around curiously for her thoughts.

She just stared back at him, defiant and sure of herself, waiting. He seemed to come up with something after a moment, because suddenly his eyes opened wide again, and his head turned to the left and shook a little.

Shrugging slowly, he had either a very bored or a thoughtful expression on his face as he turned his eyes up to the far corner of the ceiling, smacking his lips a couple of times. Suddenly, he looked back at her now with a curious expression, "Do you wanna know," pausing, he shifted quickly in his seat to lean forward in it, and bending his whole upper body over the table to get even closer to her, he gestured with both hands to his face, and tongued the corner of a scar briefly, "How I got these scars?"

There they were, those words. They had haunted her dreams on countless nights. Now, she would finally know.

All Jazlyn could bring herself to do was nod at him, too anxious on the inside to say anything, too busy trying to fight down that anxiety.

He nodded back at her. Looking away from her and up to the ceiling for a moment, he smacked his lips and straightened the collar of the shirt distractedly, "Ya see," he began, and brought his eyes back down to her and crossed his arms on the table to lean on them, "My father..was..a drink_er_…and a _fiend_," he said darkly, glancing away from her for a second and licking his lips.

"One night, he's even more a_grrr_essive than usual," his head sort of bobbed a little, tilting to the right, his eyes half closed at her, "He gets upset with me because…I won't laugh at his jokes," he paused briefly to lick, and nodded once at her, "He starts yelling at me, and he says," eyes darting up, he squinted a little, "Why are you _so-o_ serious, kid_-uh_…don't you think I'm _funny_?"

Jazlyn's eyes narrowed a little here, because she didn't like how this was going…how familiar it was starting to sound. He continued, raising his eyebrows at her inquisitively, "So you know what he did? He grabs the kitchen knife…"

Before Jazlyn could react, he had grabbed her, leaning across the table as easily as a stretching cat. One hand vice-like on the back of her neck, the other holding onto her jaw, gripping firmly, "And then he grabs me, like this."

The expression of anger and rage on his face, so close to hers she could smell his stale breath, truly terrified her and left her frozen to the spot, staring into his dark eyes. His voice lowered into a deep growl as he said in his father's voice, "_Why _are you _so...serious?!_"

Cocking his head over to the left, his fingers tightened on Jazlyn's jaw and the tips of them dug into her cheeks, "He sticks the blade in my mouth," craning his neck a little, he turned his head to the right, closing his eyes and smacking his lips as if tasting the metal he spoke of

And then he thrust his face to within an inch away from hers. He shifted his hands from her neck and jaw, and held her head tightly between them now, and when he spoke, growling out the words, he squeezed her head in a fit of anxiousness that she could practically feel radiate from him, "Let's put a _smile_ on that face_-uh_!"

Now, Jazlyn tried to pull out of his grip, overcome for a split second with panic. But, he was much stronger then he looked, and she couldn't pull away. Suddenly, she remembered that she had hands, and they were free. She reached up and grabbed his wrists…he was squeezing her head so hard it hurt…and pulled at his hands.

Giving her an irritated frown, he wrestled with her hands for a second, before capturing them both in just one of his, and with the other he grabbed her jaw again in a painful grip, "Hey, look at me," he told her in a threatening, whispering voice that did make her look at him, for fear of what he would do if she didn't.

"You _look at me_ when I'm talking to you," he said in a firm tone, glaring at her. Then he turned his head and watched her out of the corner of his eye in a way that made her realize he was waiting for an answer. So she nodded softly.

He nodded back, still glaring at her, and continued as if nothing had happened, "So, ya see…_now_ I see the funny side, because," eyes darting around, he licked pointedly at first one scar, then the other, and then he grinned at her and let her go so suddenly she fell back into the chair, but he didn't seem to notice.

Holding his hands up in the air on either side of his face, he finished in a cheerful voice, "Now I'm _always_ smiling!"

Jazlyn's heart was pounding in her chest…she was sure he could hear it, how could he not? Did that smile he was giving her mean he could hear it?

She was shaking, overcome with emotion; anger, sadness, and fear. He had hurt her, she could feel pain in her wrists and on her jaw, and it made her even angrier. She was confused and terrified because that story had sounded way too familiar and it scared her…

Jazlyn couldn't remember deciding to do it. Maybe it was the blind hatred and anger she felt all of a sudden, for him and at him. She didn't know. But, all at once, she had reached out and slapped him right across the cheek. She hit him so hard his head turned with the force of it, the sound of her palm smacking against his cheek echoing in the room…or was it her head?

Because for a horrible moment after she had slapped him, everything went utterly and completely still. And quiet. And Jazlyn was frozen with terror, her heart stopped painfully in her chest, holding her breath, staring wide-eyed at him.

She had just struck The Joker. _Oh, shit._

He didn't move for a whole three seconds, head still turned, face away from her, hands still in the air with palms up and fingers pointing to the ceiling. Finally, his eyes raised and he blinked slowly, and turned his head to look at her. He smacked his lips, and then he smiled.

It was a smile that made her blood run cold. And the murderous, but strangely amused expression on his face and in his dark eyes made her want to hide somewhere.

Lowering one hand onto the table, he smacked his lips again, pointed at her with the other hand, and said, "A little fight in ya, after all…I like that!"

And then he started to giggle, a playful sound that seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep within him, and that in the effort to stifle the giggle, he bounced a little in his chair, his green-tinted golden curls flopping.

"Wh-," Jazlyn began, but was cut short when all at once he stopped giggling, and stretched over the table to grab her again, but this time by the throat and the back of her hair, tearing at her pony-tail. He thrust his face into hers, and again she could smell his hot breath when he said in a dangerous voice she would never forget, "But, don'_-t._ You _ev_er. Do tha-_t_ again."

His hand on her throat was cutting off her air, and she struggled to swallow. His dark eyes, right in front of hers, were all she could see.

She couldn't understand why she didn't move, defend herself, fight back. She knew how. Probably it was due to the terror she felt, like ice water in her veins, because of his warning, because of that murderous look in his dark-brown eyes.

Maybe it was simply because…he was The Joker. And fighting back just didn't do much good.

All too suddenly, and in one swift, smooth motion, he let go of her throat, and slammed her forehead down onto the table with the hand fisted in her hair.

Everything went black for a split second, as her forehead bounced off the tabletop, and she instinctively put her hand to the place of impact, grimacing and closing her eyes as the dull pain thudded in her skull.

It wasn't the worst feeling she'd ever experienced, and the pain didn't bother her near as much as the feeling of humiliation she got afterward.

Opening her eyes, squinting in what seemed to be a brighter light then she remembered, she blinked a couple of times.

The Joker was still sitting across from her. He hadn't moved after letting her go, except to lean on one arm against the table, looking at her with his head turned, a dangerous look in his eyes, but an amused expression on his face. He was giving her a smug smile, egging her on.

He licked and smacked his lips. She cleared her throat, and straightened her hair, pulling her tail back into place, "I think that about does it for today," she said in a flat, strained tone, and gathered her papers together.

His expression changed and he suddenly looked very upset…but there was still a smile on his lips, "Oh, already? But we were having…so…much…_fun-uh_," he said in a low growl, lowering his head and looking up at her, a stray curl falling over his forehead. She could see the tip of his tongue travel along the scar on the inside of the cheek she had struck, then he licked his lips pointedly.

"Be that as it may," she said in an icy tone, glaring at him, "I have things to do. I _do_ have _other_ patients, you know." Pausing as she started to get up, she wondered if she'd said that because it was true, or because she wanted to hurt him in some small way.

If it was the latter, it didn't make a difference anyways…he completely ignored it and said, "We'll ah, finish another time, then," and he gave her a big smile and a nod, licking briefly. His dark eyes stared at her from an angle in a way that made her hesitate for a just a moment, and an image of the attack in the bathroom popped into her mind. Scowling at him, she stood, gathered her things, and turned to the door.

Her head hurt from the blow to it, and she needed an Aspirin. Not to mention to cool off and get her thoughts together. Damn it all, how was he able to upset her inner balance so badly?

_Because he's The Joker. Fear and chaos are what he does best._

She was almost to the door, her hand on the handle, when directly behind her she heard his low voice, right before she felt his presence at her back, "You be sure to come back, soon, Doc," he said, and she turned around to look right into his eyes…they were the same height, she noticed for the first time. Then she noticed she was trapped between him and the door.

The Joker reached up, and batted at a strand of her hair, hanging freely beside her face. Tilting his head over to the left, he smiled at her, and gave her a strangely-sweet sort of expression, "I'm getting…awfully…_horny_...," he said with a smile, in such a deep, exaggerated tone that it made her shiver…and the very word, spoken in such a way to her by _him, _shattered her anger instantly and left her feeling vulnerable and weak all over again.

Jazlyn swallowed. His body-heat against her, the smell of his grease-paint, his hot, stale breath against her face, was making her feel things, a tingling deep in her gut, and warmth between her legs.

His tongue slid out and along his top lip, and he let it fall with a tiny smacking sound. She had become mesmerized by the y-shaped scar on his bottom lip for a moment. When she looked up into his eyes again, he grinned at her, and her heart pounded; _he knew_. He knew the effect he was having on her…he was enjoying this.

The thought was somewhat sobering, and she snapped out of it and drew herself up as big as she could go, and said in a hollow and shaky voice, "Good night, Mr. Joker."

Jazlyn got herself turned around, and slid out the door as fast as she could manage without stumbling all over herself. She hurried down the hall at a fast pace, still trying to seem casual, and heard the door automatically lock behind her.

Zeke, the orderly at the end of the hallway leading to the Joker's room, nodded at her and gave her a wry little smile she didn't quite catch as she hurried past him.

She made it to her office within minutes, locked the door behind her, and sat in the dark behind her desk. She was shivering.

The rose and vase were still sitting on her desk, exactly where she'd left them.

Sighing shakily, she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes…behind them, she saw the Joker's smiling, knowing face.

Her determination was stronger than ever. If he wanted to play rough, rough was just her style.

_Let the Game begin…_


	6. A Turn of the Tide

A/N: I remain firm in my course, because the Boss has deemed it so.

This has got to be the fastest I've written up a chapter in a long while. I would have had it up last night, but She was a little hesitant to share her dream with me, at first. The Boss has been pushing me rather hard. I promised him a chapter before the weekend was up. I hope I've somewhat satisfied him with this one.

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_"And here...we...go."_

xoHAxoHAxoHAxoHAxo

…_His weight was crushing her as he lay on top of her back, writhing and grabbing. With her at age 13 and him at 36, he was a good four times bigger than she was, and especially fatter._

_He got up on his knees, and grabbed her hair and pulled it to make her get up on all fours in front of him…she knew it would do no good to cry out or scream for help…Lyn, the bitch, wouldn't even acknowledge it anymore._

_Gary positioned her, and before she knew it he had shoved himself brutally inside her and had started going to town, rocking her back and forth. She started to cry, but it was silent, unheard whimpers...it hurt so bad, she just wanted it to be over quickly. Over quickly so she could wash up, curl up in bed, and pray he didn't show up again that night for round two._

_Suddenly, he gave her hair a hard yank, and he leaned down to growl in her ear, "Turn around and smile at me…" His breath, as always, smelled strongly of whisky and those disgusting tacos he ate all the time._

_He leaned back up, expecting her to do what he said. But she didn't, she refused to look back at him, she refused to give him want he wanted while he was fucking her._

_It made him mad really quick, "I said look back and smile at me, you little bitch!" he said hatefully, giving her hair another brutal tug, and slamming his hips against her with enough force to bruise._

_Jazlyn still refused, and fought down a soft cry as pain shot up through her belly when he stabbed the inside of it._

_Suddenly, he hit her in the back of the head with his fist, dazing her, and then she felt him lean over to reach for something near the bed._

_Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pick up the still-lit cigar in the tray on her nightstand, and he said, "Have it your way then, you little slut," His hand then fisted in the back of her hair, and he forced her head down unto the mattress so she was kneeling in an odd angle in front of him, which also made him force himself into her deeper, harder, more painfully._

"_If you won't smile at me, I'll make you one, instead!" Gary said in such a deeply, hate filled, drunken voice that her blood ran cold, and she started to struggle a bit against the mattress and his weight._

_That was when she felt the blistering pain on her back, and she cried out in shock. _

_Another hot impact of pain raced through her back, and now she started to really struggle. But he was so strong, she couldn't get away, and her struggling only made him start laughing._

_Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she screamed into the fabric of the mattress as he touched the hot cigar against her back, over and over and over again, still fucking her all the while…still laughing at her…_

_And then his laughter changed, from the deep, bellowing kind she was used to, to a shrill, chaotically happy sound that penetrated her very soul._

_She was flipped over violently, and a knife was held now to her face, and she found herself staring up into the painted eyes of The Joker._

_He was grinning at her as he licked his lips as he said, "Now, let's put a -smile- on that -face-!"_

_And he started laughing all over again, shriller, louder. He slid the knife into her mouth, and she screamed as loud as she could while he laughed. _

_He made eye-contact with her, and Jazlyn's heart, soul, and body completely froze with the dread that came over her from the murderous look in his eyes._

_The Joker stopped laughing, and he looked at her with his head tilted to the side and a dark, evil smile on his lips that stretched the scars up, before he jerked the knife outward through her cheek…_

Jazlyn woke up screaming. His laughter was still echoing in her head. His painted face still swam behind her eyes. She was shaking all over, shaking so badly the bed trembled with it.

Looking around her tiny apartment in panic, she saw that she was alone.

The Joker was not here, and neither was her foster father.

Putting her hands up to her sweat-covered face, she held her palms against her cheeks, just checking, just making sure. She let out a trembling sigh, closed her eyes, and put her head in her hands.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, she sat in the middle of the bed and spent the rest of the early morning forcing herself not to cry.

xoHAxoHAxo

"Jazlyn," Closing her office door behind her, Jazlyn scowled to herself, sighing inwardly, and wondered if she could change her name, at least for today.

She was so not in the mood to talk to anyone. Her dreams always put her in a foul mood, because it seriously pissed her off to remember things about her earlier life. And she had had the same dream for the last two nights, and both nights _He_ had invaded it.

Turning towards the voice, she saw one of the other Interns, Jessica, half-jogging up the hall towards her.

"Hey, I've got a message for you. You're needed in the Administrator's office as soon as you can get there, they just told me." Jessica, slightly out of breath, said all-too cheerfully, and smiled at her.

Jazlyn forced herself to give her a half-smile. Jessica was a sweet girl…maybe too sweet for a job like this…but she meant well, and they at least got along.

Jazlyn was not known among the interns for being very friendly. She wasn't too friendly with anyone, really, but she stayed on a casual basis with people, if only to keep the peace. She was here for one reason only, and she wouldn't let a silly thing like friendship get in the way of that.

She had never had any friends. She hadn't needed them in her earlier life, she didn't need them now.

"Ok, thanks, Jessica," With that, Jazlyn turned to head in the other direction, signaling the end of the conversation, or so she thought.

So, she was a little annoyed when she heard Jessica start to follow, "Some of us are getting together later at The Club, if you'd like to come along?" She said, in a hopeful way.

Rolling her eyes, Jazlyn shook her head briefly, glancing at her, "No, thanks, I'm busy later," But with her eyes she said, _Just go away and leave me alone._

Jessica didn't get the point, though, and kept going, "Oh, come on, it'll be fun! You could use a night out, you never come anywhere with us. I think Nick has a cr—"

"No, thank you, Jessica, I said I'm busy," _Now fuck off,_ she growled in her head.

But, the stupid girl kept following her…why did people insist on trying to include her in things, when she obviously just wanted to be alone?

"—we're all going to dinner and everything, you really should come with us, Lyn—"

There it was, that damned name, and the anger and rage that followed with it. Stopping short, causing Jessica to nearly stumble into her, Jazlyn turned around and gave the year-younger girl a fierce, deadly look, letting her see the dark anger in her green eyes.

Stepping closer to Jessica, who stepped backward, staring at her with a suddenly nervous look in her eyes, Jazlyn whispered softly, in an even, flat tone through clenched teeth, "Don't. _Ever._ Call me that."

It felt like she was shaking with the effort to stay calm, to not just reach right on out and smack the girl as hard as she could. She _hated_ that name, and anyone that called her by it.

Maybe Jessica saw that in her eyes, that hatred, because she swallowed and nodded her head, taking another step backward all at the same time, and said in a small voice, "Sure, sorry Jazlyn. I'll leave you alone now…"

"Why don't you just go ahead and do that, then." Jazlyn stated firmly.

Jessica nodded again, turned on her heel, and practically ran back down the hallway, glancing backwards a couple of times.

Jazlyn watched her until she was out of sight, then turned back around and continued her previous course.

Becoming aware of an ache in her hands, she lifted them up and saw that she had been clenching them so hard her knuckles had turned white. Her nails had also dug into her palms, drawing tiny crescents of blood.

Sighing, she dropped her hands back to her sides and flexed her fingers as she walked to get the stiffness out of them.

Ten minutes later, she suddenly found herself in a very familiar hallway, without realizing she had even decided to come here.

In a daze, she turned to the right, and there it was; the door to The Joker's room.

A voice next to her made her jump a little…she had walked right by Zeke, the Joker's assigned attending orderly, without even seeing him there, "What are you doing here, Ms. Mirez? I didn't think you were seeing him until late this afternoon."

Looking at him, she came up with an answer fast, "Just came to check on him, before I make my rounds…see what mood I may have to deal with later, you know?" She said, smiling slightly at him.

Zeke smiled back, and made a scoffing sound—he didn't say it, but they both knew that it did no good to try to map the Joker's moods, because they shifted and changed constantly like the colors on a hologram card—and replied simply, "I guess it's always good to be prepared."

"Exactly. I won't be a minute, I'm in a rush."

Zeke nodded at her and tilted his head to the side to signal the go-ahead. Giving him a fake smile, she moved down the short hallway and stopped in front of the door.

Pausing for a moment or two to get her swirling emotions under control, she wondered vaguely why she had come here in her fit of anger…but she knew she already knew the answer, somehow. Seeing him would remind her that not everyone in this world was stupid.

Reaching up, she took the tiny handle to the small window door, and slid it about two inches open as quietly as she could. Getting up on her tiptoes a little, she peered in through the crack.

The Joker was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, as he usually was. He wasn't wearing a straight jacket, which she was glad to see. He was such an animated person, and she hated to see him confined…even if he didn't seem to care at all about being so, himself.

His legs were stretched out in front of him, set apart about the width of his body, and his hands were on the floor between his knees, elbows resting on his thighs. His head was bowed, and from her angle, his hair was mostly hiding his face.

Watching him, she realized that his hands were moving between his knees, his fingers dancing on the padded floor as if drawing something there. Looking back at what she could see of his face, his eyes were lowered to his task, and he was licking or smacking his lips periodically. His expression was calm, collect, calculating. Maybe even almost peaceful and a bit distracted in a concentrating kind of way.

His very demeanor was relaxed. And it occurred to Jazlyn, from out of nowhere, that he was just waiting. Simply waiting for the final piece to fall into place.

She felt a chill, and fought it down, but she didn't bother to not smile as she watched him, feeling a calm wash over her system.

She figured if The Joker could look peaceful like that in a world full of naïve idiots, than she could, too.

And then the Joker looked up at her. Twisting his head to the side at an angle, a few stringy curls falling across his forehead, he stared right at her, his hands moving swiftly back and forth on the floor where he had been "drawing", as if he were erasing it all. Then he held very still, head bowed, staring at her.

She saw him lick his lips, from left to right, twice. Jazlyn froze, although she knew he couldn't see more than just her left eye…but he knew he was being watched. And he wanted her to know that he knew it.

Neither of them moved for a moment, and then he raised his eyebrows way up high, and looked away from the door while smacking and licking his lips.

Jazlyn took that opportunity, and signal, to close the tiny window and step away from the door. Turning around, she walked back down the hallway, and turned the corner to pass Zeke, saying a quick, "See ya later."

He smiled and nodded at her, and then he was out of sight as she turned another corner.

She felt much better, now, even if she didn't fully understand why.

xoHAxoHAxo

Her soft knock on the door sounded dull and hollow. The voice that answered on the other side sounded gruff and very business-like, "Come in."

Stepping inside the Hospital Administrator's office, she shut the door behind her gently and moved up to the desk, "You wished to see me, Doctor Rydal?" she greeted him.

Doctor Rydal, a stocky, mean-looking black man, finished flipping through the paperwork on his desk, cleared his throat, and looked up at her. He always had such a dull, professional look in his eyes, "How are your sessions going with The Joker?" He asked straight out, leaning back in his chair.

Jazlyn blinked, taking that split second to think, and then responded quite simply, "They are progressing."

As far as she was concerned, the things she did not write in her paperwork—such as the fact that the Joker had laid his hands on her—was none of anyone's business but hers and the Joker's.

"I take it, then, you wish to continue with him?" he asked like he already knew the answer.

Without hesitating, she nodded and said, "Absolutely."

"Then you would be the deciding factor when it comes to his rights, as your patient." He said.

She nodded, even though she didn't really see where he was going with this, and waited.

Leaning up in his leather chair, he grabbed a cigar out of a box on his desk, grabbed the cutter beside it, and clipped off the end before saying to her, "The Board is proposing that we give The Joker a trial period of what is called 'Social Therapy'. As an Intern, I'm sure you have heard of it," He looked up at her, and she nodded again, so he went on,

"Now, it has also been taken into consideration that, since his arrival two months ago, he has put two people in Intensive care—", he began, but she interjected.

"With all due respect, sir, the orderly Tom provoked the attack in the shower room. He stated so in his report, as did the two witnesses, and—", but he interrupted her now, "Yes, I am aware of the reports, Ms. Mirez. Now, please, let me finish."

She shut her mouth, and nodded, feeling a tingle of anxiety as the subject matter started to sink in, "But, as some of the Board members are seeing it, that is two people in two months, only injured and in recovery, in contrast to the dozen people, that we know of, over the month he was terrorizing Gotham City."

Well, she supposed that was true enough. But, then again, she knew it was only because he'd had little opportunities to rack up his body count since he had been here. She also knew that Doctor Rydal knew that, too.

There was more to this than the Doctor was letting on, she could sense it. She wasn't going to let him know this, though.

"What we need from you, Ms. Mirez, as his Attending, is your professional opinion on whether or not The Joker deserves the right to a trial of Social Therapy?" Rydal said, putting the cigar in his mouth, and lighting it up.

Jazlyn watched him for a minute, almost glaring at the item in his mouth. She hated those things.

She knew there was supposed to be no smoking in the hospital. But, she also knew that this guy thought he was pretty tough shit, just because of the little plaque on his desk that happened to say he was the boss.

As he watched her, puffing on his cigar a couple of times, she took a moment to weigh her options, but decided to stay neutral until she could think it over. This was a big decision; she wanted to make it the right one.

"If it's all the same to you, Doctor Rydal, I believe I would like to discuss this with my client before I make a decision. It is _his_ choice, really, whether he wants to socialize or not. Don't you think, sir?" Jazlyn made sure to make it sound more like a question, rather than making it sound like she was telling him how to do his job, which she kind of was.

It was the truth, though. The Joker should be aware of something like this, he should have a choice to participate in what she figured was more of an experiment then it was "therapy".

Doctor Rydal didn't seem to really like her answer, but she could tell from the look in his eyes he couldn't dismiss it or argue with it, either.

"Very well, Ms. Mirez," he said, nodding and writing something on a piece of paper, "Discuss it with your client, and get back to me by the end of the day."

He waved his hand to dismiss her, and her eyes narrowed at him briefly before she turned around and left the office.

Making her way back to her own office to get her things to start her rounds, Jazlyn couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement that she was finding hard to contain past a smile.

Finally, there might be some real action around here…

She couldn't wait to give the news to The Joker.


	7. Time for a Little Fun

A/N 12.19/20.08: Ok. I'm going to post this as it is, before I take even longer on it. Hopefully there aren't too many errors. I am already pushing my deadline…if I haven't already. We'll have to see; I truly hope he likes it, regardless. This chapter earns it's rating of 'M'…and I mean that. I have been a complete mess all day, writing this one. I am so ready to curl up in a corner now.

"_And here…we…go!"_

xoHAHAxoHAHAxoHAHAxoHAHAxo

It was almost four o'clock by the time she had finished her rounds, and had started on her way to The Joker's room.

She had saved his session for last, because she knew that by the time she had run around, talking to her other clients, she would be tired and cranky, and therefore she would be on edge. And when she was on edge, she felt more alert, better ready to handle whatever he might dish out at her.

Jazlyn had quickly grown tired of being such a victim with this man; it was about time he saw that she wasn't as innocent as she might look.

Jazlyn had her own plans brewing, and they involved the Joker.

Zeke smiled at her as she walked past him, and she asked, "Any trouble?"

Shaking his head, he tossed his head a bit towards the door, "Quiet as a mouse." He was always so soft spoken for a man twice as big as she was, with a hard face and stern eyes, but his voice was always so gentle and polite. She remembered that he started here not a few months ago, just around the time the Joker had been admitted.

Jazlyn had always thought it was a little strange that, being so new, he was already charged with such a big job as personal orderly for such an "extreme patient", but who was she to judge. She wasn't supposed to be here, either, but here she was.

She nodded at Zeke and continued her way down the short hallway to the door. Grabbing the handle, she waited until the people watching on the camera behind her in the hallway opened the lock.

When she heard it click open, she opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her.

"Evening, beau-ti-ful," his voice drawled deeply. She could hear the smile in his voice.

She turned her head, and then she saw him. This time, he was sitting on his bunk, on the very edge of the bed, near the foot of it.

His hands rested on his thighs, and he sat straight-backed but relaxed. His make-up was smeared here and there, a couple of patches of skin showing through; he probably hadn't had a shower since she had last seen him.

He was smiling at her when they made eye-contact, and she gave him a tired but real smile in return, "Good evening, Mr. Joker. How are you today?"

He shrugged, smacking his lips and leaning his head to the right, then to the left, "Oh, as good as could be ex-pected," he said distractedly, eyes rolling upward before landing on her again. He opened his mouth to say something, and then stopped when he saw her face.

She was suddenly well aware of the dark circles under her eyes, the tired look in her eyes, her slightly disheveled purple hair, which had been left down for the day…all of which she hadn't had the time to fix during her busy schedule.

The Joker's brows drew together in what appeared to be concentration, as if making sure to himself he saw what he saw, and he nodded softly, smacked his lips, and pointed at her, "You look awful," he said, very short and to the point.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she responded quickly with an icy, "Thanks. You don't look so hot yourself, you know."

She lied, and she hoped he wouldn't know it. She actually liked the way he looked just now, makeup worn-looking and hair bedraggled...it reminded her of how he had looked that night in the alley.

He frowned and widened his eyes at her, tilting his head towards her on the right. Sucking in his bottom lip, he bit it. A second later he released it and drug his tongue over it at the same time, "Having bad drea_ms_?" he asked, grinning at her and wobbling his head slightly, pronouncing the 'ms' so it sounded like 'eems-zuh'.

"Yes, actually," she said, before she could even stop herself. Then she realized that she didn't really care if she'd said it or not. Until,

"What abou_t_?" he asked, raising his eyes.

Jazlyn narrowed her eyes at him, and then turned around to grab one of the chairs that they had used last session at the little table, but the chairs were gone. Not thinking this very strange, considering she was in a mental hospital, she just turned back around and said shortly, "I don't really think that is any of your business."

By this time, he had shifted slightly at the edge of the bed, and linked his fingers, his hands hovering in the space between his thighs and elbows tucked in close to his waist.

Wrinkling his nose and scrunching up his face a bit, he chewed on his bottom lip, turning his face away from her a little to look at her from the corner of his eye. Raising his hand, he pointed at her again, "Now, is that _you_ talking…or is that..._them_?" he asked, tossing his head on the last word.

"See," he continued, his tongue flicking out over his top lip, "I know that _they_ have rules. You aren't supposed to tell me things. They think it's more…sensible to stay dis-tant, to not give anything away," He nodded, licking his lips again, and stared at her hard.

Then, he leaned forward, hands on his knees, and said, "But, the only _sen_sible way to live in this world is withou_t_ rules," nodding softly, he licked the corner of his mouth, "_Rules-zuh_…keep people from being…who they really are."

Tilting his head to the left, he looked around the room, smacking his lips, nodded to himself, and looked at her again, "So, don't you think it's more," he paused, eyes darting off again to return a split-second later, "Pro-_grrr_essive to break the rules, Doctor?"

As a matter of fact, she did. She had always thought that, that 'rules were meant to be broken'…that the only way you got ahead in life was to do things your own way.

Finally, she knew she wasn't the only one who thought this way.

By the way he looked at her, his head to the side and tongue darting out, and a little smile on his lips, he could see the answer in her eyes.

That was when he leaned over towards the right, in a sort of dancer's motion, and patted the empty space on the bed next to him, smiling and nodding at her.

She watched his patting hand for a second, and then looked up his arm and to his painted face. He had this dark 'come here' kind of look that made that little tingle deep in her gut twitch, and she found herself swallowing to clear her throat.

He gave her a slightly impatient look, lowering his brows at her, and she felt a sense of coming danger in his eyes.

Moving forward as casually as possible, as if she just preferred to sit than stand, rather then because she was scared he would get angry, she settled down on the edge of the bed about three feet away from him, clipboard in her lap.

He gave her a single, firm nod of his head, licking his lips. The look in his eyes told her that, somehow, he had proven some kind of point.

Jazlyn forced a half-smile at him, and nodded slowly, changing her tone a little, though she said dismissively, "They were about my foster parents."

_For the most part_, she thought to herself, not meeting his eyes.

"Ah," he said, raising his voice to a slightly higher pitch, and shifting on the bed again to turn towards her. He looked up at the ceiling, scrunching his right eye and licking at the left corner of his mouth. Looking back at her, he asked, "What happened to the real ones?"

Giving him a firm look, she said in an even tone, "My mother died hours after I was born, and my father took off right after."

It didn't hurt to talk about it; she didn't mourn them, because she hadn't known them. She did hate them, though, for leaving her here in the hands of complete idiots.

He nodded, making a slight "Hm" sound in the back of his throat, looking away from her to the wall at his right, and then his head bobbed a little as if to a tune in his head, eyes blinking lazily a couple of times.

Jazlyn watched him, starting to wish she had just not said anything about her foster parents. It looked liked he was rolling the information around in his mind with his eyes, tongue licking, and like the snowball effect, there was no telling what he would come up with.

And then his tongue traveled along the inside of the scar on his left cheek, lips smacking, and he looked at her with his head dropping a bit, leaning slightly towards her, and said, "So, when did he star_t_ coming into your room at night?"

Jazlyn's heart stopped cold in her chest, and she tried not to give herself away with her eyes. It was chilling enough that he would make a right guess on the first try, but it was terrifying to think that he knew, that he had somehow known all along.

The left corner of his mouth twitched slightly into a smile, and the scarred, red grin on his face seemed longer with the way he held his head, leaning slightly to the left, bowed a little so that he was looking up at her. His dark eyes burned with an intensity she had never seen there before.

He knew. There was no guessing to it…he knew. A shiver ran up her spine, and she wondered just how much he did know.

He smacked his lips, and the movement brought her back to the present.

Swallowing, she hesitated for a second, and decided that there was no point in denying what he already knew. Finally, she said, "When I was twelve."

He nodded in a somewhat exaggerated way, working his mouth a little. His eyes darted from left to ceiling, and he tongued the corner of his mouth, "Yanno what I find so interesting?" he asked, and didn't wait for her to answer, "Is, uh, watching all of the little…emotions that people have."

Jazlyn shifted a little on the bed now, herself—these beds really weren't all that comfortable—and watched his tongue travel up along his top lip, his eyes on the ceiling as he raised his hand, holding it up in the air for a moment, before making a sort of 'OK' symbol with his fingers.

"Ya see," Smacking his lips, he looked back at her and said, "That's why I use a knife."

Jazlyn's eyes narrowed a little, because this was not the direction she had expected the conversation to go…

"Because," he bared his teeth for a moment as he scrunched up his face, squinting his eyes as if trying to sort out his thoughts in the heartbeat it took to start talking again, "In their…last…moments…you can see, ah, who people really are."

He nodded, gestured vaguely towards the door, then tapped his right temple with his finger, "That's why _they_ think I'm so _cra-a-zy_ like that."

Working his mouth around, he chewed his bottom lip for a second, and pointed at her, holding his fingers somewhat like a gun with a curved barrel, "But you…you don't think I'm so _cra-a-zy_…do you?"

It wasn't so much a question, as it was a statement. He swirled his head around a little, keeping his eyes on her the whole time, and looked at her from the corner of his right eye, "Hmm?"

Jazlyn weighed her options for a moment, and decided to answer him honestly without really giving him an answer, "I really don't think it matters what I think, Mr. Joker—"

"Oh, but it does!" He interrupted cheerfully. He leaned forward a little, moving as if to get up, and she leaned back away from him slightly, but he sat right back down in a spot just a half centimeter over from the spot previous, pointing at her again. He smiled as he said, raising his hands to air-quote lazily, "You're my _Doc-tor_…" he licked at the left side of his mouth, and tilted his head to the right, "Remember?"

Jazlyn studied him for a moment, and he tongued the corner of his mouth, eyes locked on hers. She hated feeling that he always knew the answer before he even asked it…but that seemed to the one of the most alluring things about him; that cunningness and intelligence.

"Fair enough," she said simply, not giving anything away that she could tell one way or another. Glancing away from him towards the door, then back again, she saw that he was scooting just a tad closer to her, eyes darting up at the light on the ceiling, then towards the door and back up again before landing on her at last, "Listen," he said in a confidentiality kind of tone, pausing to lick his lips. Jazlyn took the opportunity to shift just slightly away from him, pathetically trying to keep a 'safer' distance.

"I'm…not…crazy—"

But Jazlyn couldn't help herself to interrupt him, "Oh, you're not?"

Her smile didn't last very long, because the dangerous look that came into his eyes and on his face made her feel extremely stupid for doing that. The room was deadly silent for the span of two racing heart beats, and then he said in a low, soft voice that made the back of her neck tingle, "No. I'm. No_t_." And then he worked his mouth slightly, like he was trying to gnaw at the corner of the left scar.

He blinked slowly at her, lowering his head, and Jazlyn felt for a second he was about to pounce, her body tensing instinctively, and she became aware again of just how close he was to her right now.

But all he did was drag his tongue between his lips in a slow, tasting manner, smacked them and tilted his head to the left, and said in a much lighter tone, "See, I'm just ahead of the curve."

Now it was her turn to tilt her head a little at him, as she asked, "And how is that?"

"Well, it's just," he licked his lips, glancing up and lifting his hands, palms down, and he bounced them in the air as he said, "it's such a funny world we live in, yanno?"

Pointing towards the door, he kept his eyes on her and said, "Them…" he turned his head to the left, licking his lips, "Those, uh, _civilized_ people," rolling his eyes dramatically here, he shook his head a little, "They are only as good as society says to be...They all play by the rules."

"But, when the chips are down…all those 'good' and 'decent' people…they'll eat each other." He nodded at her, and his expression lowered into a sort of scowl, head turning and eyes rolling. Then he leaned forward, elbow on his leg, and gestured at her with his whole hand, "All it takes is one bad day, yanno. Just one." he held up his index finger for a moment, then nodding again, he licked at the inside of his cheek.

Jazlyn watched him carefully for a moment. He was leaning casually on his leg, licking at his lips from one side to the other randomly, with his head cocked slightly onto his left shoulder.

Suddenly, she smiled, and told him in as pleasant a voice as she could manage, "Mr. Joker, I think it's time for some Social Therapy."

The briefly stumped expression that came over the Joker's face was priceless, and if it had been anyone else, she might have laughed. But not with him. He stopped in mid-lick and raised his brows up high, closing his eyes at the same time, then dropped one brow slightly, and opened his eyes, "Ah…_excuse_ me?" he asked with a curious turn of his head, half-closing his eyes at her.

Looking around the room for a second, she looked back at him in time to see him lean slightly more towards her. He had raised a hand to the ear closest to her to show her he was listening, and he was giving her an intensely patient expression that made her feel hot all over.

Clearing her throat softly, she glanced down at the clipboard on her lap, and then back up a him, "The Administrator is offering you a trial period of 'Social Therapy'," He retracted his head a little, turning his face away from her and giving her a hard look out of the corner of his eye, and she continued, "You will be allowed to walk the halls and visit the common rooms, such as the cafeteria and Activities rooms, even the Library. You can either mingle with the other patients, which is kinda the point, or you can stay in here, but without being locked in all day, free to come and go as you please."

As she had talked, his doubtful expression had slowly melted into one of growing interest, and he licked his lips, looking off around the room distractedly…but she could practically see him thinking, considering, chewing on his lip and licking at it. The Joker was never actually 'distracted' after all.

"The only stipulations are," she continued, and he looked back at her, eyeing her up and down, "Is that, of course, you have to behave. Secondly, you would have to join in a few group sessions, just to appease the Board Members."

She watched as he wrinkled his nose at her, as if what she had just said smelled awful. He looked her up and down again, licked at the left side of his mouth, but said nothing. That was because he was still thinking. She could tell by the way he was rolling his eyes around, almost frantically.

So, she lowered her voice a bit, and said softly, "It would be a good chance to stretch your legs. Yanno…have a little…fun?"

Only, when she said the word 'fun', she found that she didn't mean it in the good old-fashioned way of fun. She realized that she meant it in the…dangerous kind of way, the kind of 'fun' that the Joker lives for.

Why she was hoping for that kind of fun, she didn't know. But, she did know it sure would be nice to see him in action. He was absolutely fascinating when just sitting still, like he was now. She could barely imagine just how beautiful he was when he was actually doing something destructive.

Her sentence did not have the effect on him that she might have expected. His very demeanor changed completely. His shoulders hunched a little, and the dangerous expression on his face made her realize that he had just gotten a terrible idea…

And then he said in a deep, slow drawl, "Fu_n-uh_...?"

Jazlyn's heart froze from that voice, that look in his eyes…that growing smile on his face, scars and all. She started trying to shrink away from him, and to her horror, he leaned towards her in return, and said in the same, low tone, "I know how to have some…_fun-uh_!"

And all at once he was on her. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, and in a second he was on top of her, straddling her stomach, sitting down on her so hard he pushed the air right out of her…the air she would have used to scream.

He had her wrists in his hands, and he was pinning them to the bed above her head.

His weight on her stomach was making it hard to catch her breath again, and she gasped for air, and caught the smell of his stale breath instead as he leaned down, his face an inch above hers.

He tilted his head at her, chewing at his bottom lip for a second as he studied the terrified look in her eyes that she knew was there. And then he grinned darkly, and growled, "How _sensible_ is your world now, _Doc-tor_?" he taunted her.

Jazlyn was able to catch a wheezing breath, and she instantly tried to use it to cry out for help…but she'd barely made a sound when he released her wrists with one hand, and clamped that hand forcefully over her mouth.

The only sound she could make was a whimper, and she tried to turn her head away from him, but he forced it back in place, "Shhhshhshhhh…" he whispered to her, in a sarcastic kind of way, and tilted his chin up to look down at her past his nose, his tongue protruding out of his mouth and along his bottom lip, then licking the top one.

He made a guttural sound deep in his chest, and positioned himself so that he was pressing his hips down on her, and with a renewed feeling of dread, she felt just how excited his was against her stomach.

Jazlyn started to struggle, feeling a surge of anger, and she glared up at him with all the hate she felt. He, however, appeared to enjoy this immensely. Making a sound something between a breathless laugh and a soft giggle, his mouth dropped open and his eyes rolled up into his head and around the air above his head.

Moving his hips down against her, she struggled harder, and he pushed down harder. He was just so heavy, sitting on top of her, she couldn't believe how heavy he was…he didn't look that heavy. She had to stop struggling, she couldn't breath. Trying to toss her head, she cursed at him, yelling at him against his hand, but the sound was muffled and didn't make any sense except for angry noise.

"Oh," he said, licking his lips and smiling down at her, "There's that fight again," he licked again, his eyes darting up to the ceiling just briefly, "I think we'll have to _brrr_eak you of that," he nodded, liking again, grinned at her and said, "Oh, yes."

Then, giving her an amused look, he leaned down and started to lick her face. Jazlyn closed her eyes tight and tried to turn her face away, to get away from his tongue and his hot breath, but his hand on her mouth was so strong, pressing down so hard and holding her head still. His tongue moved in a random sort of zigzag across her face, up along her cheek, over her forehead, over her eyelids and even up into her hair a little.

When the top half of her face was good and wet, soon to cool in the air, he leaned back up, licking his lips and smacking them as if savoring the taste of her skin, and moved around on his knees to now straddle her chest, sitting on it just as he had her stomach, constricting her breathing…not to mention ability to struggle much.

She did try to kick her legs, though, but at the strange angle he had her pinned, it didn't matter much anyway.

He was grinning down at her, looking especially dangerous and gleeful at the same time. His breathing was a little heavy when he moved his hand from her mouth to grab her jaw in a vice-like grip, and said, "Open your mouth."

Jazlyn refused, shaking her head and locking her jaws. Closing her eyes, she fought against his hand and turned her face away from him.

Wrong move.

He made a very disgusted face down at her, she saw it when she opened her right eye just enough to look up at him. Suddenly, he let go of her hands, but before she had time to register to move them and fight back somehow, he had twisted his upper body around, raised his fist high in the air, and brought it down, very hard, deep into her stomach.

She hadn't expected the impact, and it was so hard, it knocked the air out of her all over again, and the pain made her curl up involuntarily. Tears instantly stung her eyes, and she opened her mouth to cry out and gasp for air.

That was when he grabbed her jaw again, but at a different position. He shoved his index and middle fingers into her open mouth at the right side, stretching her cheek, and hooked them under her tongue in that sensitive mass of flesh, and his thumb hooked the underside of her jaw.

Getting a firm hold, he curled his fingers and thumb, and dug them forcefully into her flesh towards each other as if they were magnets, and shook her head a little at the same time. The pain was excruciating, tears poured from her eyes against her will, and she cried out in a pitiful sort of way, attempting a feeble struggle.

When he spoke, face inches from hers again, his voice was low and horribly gruff, and it reminded her of the story he had told about his father, "I sai_d_. O_pen_. You_r_. _Mouth-uh_."

Jazlyn closed her eyes again to keep from seeing that look in his eyes, that dangerous, intense fire in his dark eyes that made her want him and be terrified of him all at once.

She gasped for breath again, and that was when his mouth crushed painfully against hers. His tongue invaded her mouth, licking and exploring in every little crevice, paying no mind to his own fingers still hooked in there. He moved his head frantically, trying to reach her from every angle, and she felt sharp pricks of pain in her lips from where his teeth pinched at them in his efforts.

Somewhere in all of this, he had grabbed both her wrists again in his free hand, holding them tight above her head, which she found out trying to push him away.

Jazlyn tried to fight him, but it was no use, his grip on her jaw, in her jaw, was unbreakable, and it hurt even worse to move and fight against it, because then he pinched harder.

He squirmed a little on her chest and started rolling his hips again, sort of humping but not quite…not that it seemed to slow him down.

She hated how defenseless she was. Jazlyn had never felt as weak and defenseless as she did right now. Never. How could he do this to her, make her so…helpless?

_Because, he is the Joker._

Suddenly, he lifted up and away from her mouth, and then he was moving again, shifting around. The pressure on her chest was horrible, and she feared he might break a rib or two. He set his legs on top of her shoulders just right, pinning them down with her hands above her head. She tried again to struggle, but it was pointless.

Opening her eyes when he let go of her wrists once more, desperate to see what he was about to do, her heart jumped up in her throat as she watched him release his erection, letting it hit her chin, where it sat, hot and throbbing.

He giggled.

She stared up at him with wide, scared eyes, her mouth, still held open by his fingers, went dry. She tried to make a sound, a small plea, but nothing came out but a little croak.

The Joker leaned back down, eyes directly in front of hers. With a sadistic expression and a snarl on his painted face, he dug his fingers brutally into her jaw from both sides, and growled in a demonic voice, "Bi_te_ me…and I'll ri_p_ off your jaw, and shove i_t_ down your throa_-t_."

Jazlyn was instantly frozen with a terror she had never known before.

She knew he would do it, too. His eyes told her so, and she believed them.

He was sitting up again, shifting on his knees to get closer to her face. He grabbed some of her hair, which now she felt stupid for leaving down, and he lifted her head up, pulling on her hooked jaw.

_Please, don't do this…_ she begged him with her eyes, full of tears, _Please…_

He made eye-contact with her, and he snarled into a huge grin. Then he shoved his dick violently into her mouth, all at once up to the hilt. Jazlyn gagged, and the pain and pressure in the back of her throat as he held himself deep inside it made her want to get sick.

Then he was fucking her mouth, using the hand in her hair and his hooked fingers in her jaw to pull her head towards him each time he thrust forward.

Jazlyn could hear herself make the most awful, choking and gagging sounds as he forced himself deep into her throat over and over again. Each thrust seemed harder than the last, harder and faster, more violent, and she couldn't breath.

She was well aware of the guttural, animal like sounds he was starting to make, though they sounded sort of held back. Looking up through her tears, she noticed him biting his lip.

The expression of pure, sadistic pleasure on his face made some little part of her die, deep inside.

She could feel saliva running down her chin. She was trying so hard to catch her breath, trying to gasp with each of his backward movements, the fingers in her mouth allowing little room for air.

Suddenly, he let go of her jaw at last, removing his fingers from her mouth. Instead, he used that hand to grab her wrists, even though there was no way she could move her arms.

Now he had a little more leverage, using the hand holding her wrists for balance on the bed…thus allowing him deeper access to her throat.

It was all she could do not to pass out as the minutes went by. Her chin and neck were wet with her own saliva, and her jaws ached from the abuse they were taking, and the back of her throat had nearly gone numb from the pain.

Finally, his thrusting jerked a little, and he made a breathless sort of sound, and rolled his eyes. Then he pulled her hair, looking down at her, and said, breathing heavily, "Look…at…me."

Jazlyn couldn't bring herself to look.

So, letting go of her wrists, he grabbed her head with both hands, and with them he crushed her face hard against his crotch while at the same time thrusting forward and driving his dick as deep as it would possibly go down her throat, completely cutting off any chances for air.

And he held her there, and squeezing the sides of her head with all his might, he bellowed at her in that demonic voice again, but more dangerous, more deadly, "_LOOK AT ME!_"

Jazlyn looked up at him the best she could, straining her eyes upward, new tears rolling down her cheeks. She was panicking. Her lungs were starting to burn from lack of oxygen. She could feel her throat instinctively start to convulse in an attempt to breath.

Apparently, he felt it, too. And he liked it.

His mouth dropped open, and his eyes rolled up and around. His hips jerked forward and he made a strange, deep sound, his hands holding her head tightly against his pelvis. Jazlyn thought she could feel herself starting to black out…she needed air…she tried to struggle…

Tossing his head back, the Joker growled brokenly, and Jazlyn could feel him tense up and explode in her throat. His seed spilled hot down her throat, and she closed her eyes in an effort not to throw it right back up.

Spots were forming behind her closed eyes…she needed air so bad, right now…and then all at once he withdrew from her mouth and tossed her head back onto the mattress, and Jazlyn, mouth still open, gasped loudly for breath, drawing in as much as she could as fast as she could.

When she was able to, she sobbed and turned her face away from him, wanting to curl up and disappear now that he was finished….or so she thought.

He was grabbing her jaw again from underneath, and he turned her head left and right. Opening her eyes, she saw him looking at her out of the corner of his own, chewing on his lower lip and working his mouth, studying her face.

Now he was moving, but not to get up like she'd hoped. He sat up on his knees, hovering over her, then he grabbed her wrists with both hands and pulled her farther up on the bed between his legs so their hips were aligned. The top of her head rested at the padded wall.

Before she could react, he reached down to grab her hips in a painful grip, and he flipped her over onto her stomach as easily as if she were a child, and a second later he laid his full weight on top of her, crushing her down into the bed.

Jazlyn was barely able to breath out a terrified "No" before he clamped his right hand over her mouth, silencing her except for the angry sound she made into his palm.

His other arm wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her lower body up against him as he got back on his knees, grinding his crotch against the back of her skirt. He was still hard.

Jazlyn started feeling a renewed helplessness. She made some sort of pathetic sound against his hand as she felt him reach around to yank her skirt up and tear her panties down to her mid-thighs.

Now he reached up and grabbed a fistful of her hair, and leaned around a bit to growl into her ear, "You didn't think you were getting it _so ease_-ily, did you?" Jazlyn wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, but the look in his eyes told her she had better not. His breath was so hot on her ear and face. His hand left her hair to grab her shoulder from underneath, fingers digging into her muscle.

And then suddenly there was horrible, stabbing pain like she'd never known, as he drew back and then slammed his hips against hers, burying himself up to the hilt all in one, violent motion, using his hold on her shoulder to crush her backward into the thrust and drive him deeper. She screamed against his palm, and struggled weakly to get him to withdraw, to stop the pain. It hurt so bad, Jazlyn's sight went black for a moment, and she thought she'd passed out.

"I'm no_t_ through with _you_ ye_t_!" He told her, his angry, painted face all she could see, in somehow the most terrifying voice she had heard him use yet, holding her tightly in place, crushed into the bed under his weight and jammed into an awkward kneeling position.

All at once he began thrusting into her violently, slamming his pelvis into hers over and over and over again. He was attacking her body so savagely, so brutally, so horribly painfully, Jazlyn didn't think she was going to survive this.

The pain alone, that stabbing and piercing pain deep in her stomach, was too much to bear…and it was too much to allow her the release of unconsciousness.

Each of every hard thrust against her seemed to drive out a deep, animal-like grunt from deep in his chest, and Jazlyn responded with every brutal thrust with a soft, muffled cry of agony.

She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, and tried not to think of the pain, and tried to concentrate on things like the feeling of his hand gripping her shoulder, the feeling of his body flush against hers, the feeling of his breath on her cheek and his curled hair brushing across her face with every movement.

She just hoped it would be over soon…

Many minutes later, she wasn't sure just how long…it could have been forever…just when she didn't she couldn't take any more of this abuse, his movements became slightly strained, and he made a deep noise of contempt. Grabbing the sheet on the bed beside her face, he stuffed a handful of it into her mouth as he removed his other hand, and she gagged when his fingers shoved briefly down her throat.

Then in a sudden rush of movement, he straightened up, grabbed her hips in both hands, and fucked her even harder than before, digging deeper, faster. The sounds he were making, so primal and animal, was unreal. The sounds she was making, so pain filled and pathetic around the fabric in her mouth, seemed to really egg him on.

It wasn't long before he made a strangled, growling noise, and he let go of her hip with one hand to grab a bunch of her hair, and he pulled it hair, yanking her head up and making her see spots. She cried out sharply and whimpered loudly, and he responded by pulling her hair harder and slamming against her more forcefully.

She couldn't see the painted grin on his face, but she knew it was there, that he was laughing at her, behind her, as he fucked her. She thought she could even hear the laugh in the heavily-breathless noises he made.

Suddenly, he did start to laugh. It was a breathless sort of sound at first, bubbling up from the depths of his soul. His fingers dug deeply into her hip, hand tightening in her hair, and the breathless sound slowly climbed into a high-pitched, maniacal laughter that, despite the horrible pain, chilled her very soul.

Jerking and thrusting his hips, she could feel him driving himself as deep as he could go, as for the second time his seed exploded inside of her…and as he came, he made that sound again, that mix between a deep growl and a sadistic giggle.

Finally, he stopped moving, and Jazlyn just laid there and cried. He fell down on top of her carelessly, letting his weight crush her for a moment or two. Moving his head, he sniffed noisily at the beck of her neck, biting at the nap of her neck and making her jump. She could feel him smile and he made an appreciative noise, rolling his hips a bit, even though she could feel him already starting to soften inside her.

And then, in a whirl of movement, he straightened up again and moved to the side, grabbed the back of the collar on her doctor's coat, and pulled to throw her off of the bed and unto the floor.

Before she could really register what had happened, he had hopped down off the bed, and straddled her again, but this time balancing on the balls of his feet.

Crouching over her, placing his hands on either side of her head on the padded floor, he studied her face. Turning his head from side to side, looking at her from the corner of each eye, he licked at the corner of his mouth, gave her a sly smile, and said in a pleasant, childlike voice, "I think our time is up, _Doc-tor_." Popping the 'p' extra hard, he gave her an exaggerated swirl of his head.

Licking his lips, he watched her a moment longer. Jazlyn watched him watching her through blurred eyes. She heard herself make a soft, sobbing little sound up at him, as if begging him to take it all back.

For a response, he turned his head to the left, jutting out his chin and working his jaw a little to chew on the inside of his bottom lip. Looking up and down and to each side of her face out of the corner of his eye, he made a disgusted face at her, and she felt like crying all over again.

Running his tongue over his teeth, he gave her a hard, cold expression, then lowered his face until his nose touched hers, and growled into it, "Better clean your face_-uh_…," he licked his lips, and raised his brows, "Wouldn't wanna let them on, looking like such a dirty slu_-t_."

He slapped her cheek hard, then he smiled, a big, cheerful smile, and got to his feet and moved back over to the bed. Flopping himself down on top of it, he linked his fingers on the pillow, and put his head on his hands and crossed his ankles.

Staring up at the ceiling, he started to hum.

Jazlyn lay, motionless and in shock, on the floor for several long, painful moments. When she finally found the courage, not to mention the strength to move, she did so very slowly, pain racing through her whole body.

She turned over for starters. Then she sat up, and looked at him.

He was completely ignoring her, eyes closed, still humming to himself.

Jazlyn felt more hurt by that than she had anything else, and it hurt even worse to not really understand why. The feeling of being used, and thrown away like trash, started sinking in.

A renewed strength flowed into her when she realized just how much she wanted to get out of here, now. Reaching up, she used the sleeves of her coat to wipe off her face the best she could without a mirror. Then she straightened her hair and her cloths, pulling her panties back on, all the while wondering while everything she did was so…mechanical, so slow-motion and silent…so…dead.

At last, she was on her feet, wobbly or not. Watching him on the bed, she wished he would at least look at her.

But he didn't.

Turning, Jazlyn started towards the door. Her hand was on the handle, and she was just pulling it open when he said, very conversationally, "Oh, and by the way. That, uh, social therapy thing? You're right…it does sound like fun."

She stared at him, not sure how to take that. He didn't say another word, licking his lips, so she nodded at him stiffly, pulled the door open, and walked out of the room before he could do or say anything else.

Once out of the room, everything became a daze. She made her way down the short hallway with careful, even steps, trying not to let on how violated and sore and hurt she was. Her head was bowed, just in case, so her hair would hide her face from whomever she might come across.

She was well aware that she probably looked like a beaten puppy.

Passing Zeke, she muttered a soft 'Goodnight', to which he replied the same. In her daze, she didn't understand why he smiled at her the way he did…it was an almost knowing, sly smile.

Jazlyn wanted nothing more than to go to her office, to disappear and recuperate, to make sense of everything that couldn't possibly make sense.

But, she passed one of the wall clocks in the hallway. It was almost five, and Dr. Rydal would be leaving soon. She was supposed to give him an answer as to the social therapy.

Changing her course, she made her way instead towards his office, careful to use as many hallways and stairs as she could. She at least needed some time to get her wits about her, to be able to think straight again.

_To not look like someone that had just been brutally, violently, and thoroughly fucked by the Joker._

Luckily, she did not run into anyone. She didn't even bother to stop off in a bathroom to get cleaned up. She didn't want to look in a mirror, to see the look in her eyes,

If anyone did see her and ask what was wrong, she could simply tell them she'd had a long day and was tired. But, she couldn't lie to her reflection, and she didn't want to think about anything until she was safe at home.

By the time she made it to Rydal's office, she had succeeded in reaching a level of numbness that was both subtle and didn't give anything away.

She was about to knock softly on the door to his office when it opened before she could touch it. Dr. Rydal appeared, and stopped short before he ran into her. He looked her up and down, and for a second she feared he would be able to tell. Would he be able to smell the Joker on her?

She knew she could still taste him in her mouth, feel the slippery result of his attack between her legs…did she smell like she'd been freshly fucked, as well? She hadn't thought of that on the way up here…

But, all Rydal said was, "Ms. Mirez. So, do you have an answer for me?"

He must be on his way out, and glancing quickly, the briefcase in hand and coat-over-the-arm confirmed her suspicion. Good, they could keep this short.

Jazlyn nodded at him in a mechanical motion of her head, and said softy, "Yes, he has agreed to the therapy." She hoped he couldn't smell the Joker's seed and scent on her breath…she just really wanted to go home.

Doctor Rydal nodded once, and finished shutting the door behind him, locking it up and not looking at her he said, "I'll have the paperwork for you to go over on my desk, so be sure to stop by in the morning. As soon as you are caught up on the procedure, we will have a short meeting with your patient to make sure he hasn't changed his mind, and is aware of the rules."

He turned around, and Jazlyn stepped aside to let him leave. He did so without another word, leaving her standing in front of his office door. No doubt he was in a hurry to get home and drown him self in the booze everyone knew he favored.

Sighing softly, Jazlyn turned around as well, and headed down the hall and eventually towards her office. Grabbing her things, she locked up her own office, and made her way slowly to the main desk of the hospital to sign out.

Someone called to her and said 'goodbye', but she didn't really hear them, let alone see who it was, in her effort to not let things set in, to not think about anything.

She wasn't too sure how she made it home…the cab ride home was nothing but a distant dream.

The next thing she knew, she was standing in her apartment, setting her keys on the little table by the door. She took off her coat, and headed to the bathroom.

Turning on the shower, getting the water as hot as she could stand, she stripped off her clothing piece by piece, then stepped under the water and began trying to get him off of her. She was so sore in so many places, inside and out, and as she washed it wasn't long before everything finally set in, and she finally broke down.


	8. The Road to RecoveryHAHA!

12.31.08: This is really more of a "filler" chapter, I think. Next chapter will be much more exciting. I sort of know about what may happen, and it appears he's going to have a lot of fun…so stayed tuned!

By the way, Happy New Year to everyone!

xoHAHAxo

"…then you are in agreement, Ms. Mirez, that your patient 'The Joker' is in full rights to the trial period of one month of the program of Social Therapy?"

_How many times were they going to ask her that?_ She wondered.

"Yes, sir, he seemed pretty," she paused to swallow, "eager to participate." Jazlyn said shortly. All of her answers had been short and to-the-point, because she just wanted to get this over with already.

Besides, she knew that's how these old farts liked to do things, anyway. They had too many other important things to worry about, like cheating on their wives with the hospital interns and trying to figure out ways to safely embezzle money that shouldn't be theirs in the first place.

Dr. Patrick nodded at her answer, and wrote it down on the paper before him. Then he asked, "He is well aware of the stipulations to this privilege, correct? You explained to him about the behavior and the Group sessions?"

Again, Jazlyn responded with a simple, "Yes, sir."

He wrote that down, too, and Jazlyn tried not to fidget in the chair n an attempt to show the three men in front of her just how bored she really was.

Dr. Rydal, Dr. Patrick, and Dr. Burnes pretended to go over everything in a short, whispered conference, and Jazlyn took the moment to let her mind wander back to the question that had been bugging her all morning; should she really allow the Joker this 'privilege', as they called it, after what he had done to her yesterday?

It had taken quite a few pain pills and a bottle of Jack to dull the pain enough for her to get a total of three hours of sleep last night. She still couldn't decide which had been worse, the pain or the nightmares.

A couple more pills this morning had helped motivate her into even considering letting the Joker roam the halls of Arkham.

The whole ride to the hospital, she had ended up telling herself over and over that she had brought on the attack…she had fallen into yet another of the Joker's traps, so she'd paid for it. Again.

Jazlyn was wondering if she would ever learn when one of the board members cleared their throat, bringing her back to the present.

They were gathering their papers and coffee mugs when Dr. Burnes said, "Alright then, Ms. Mirez, Dr. Rydal will join you shortly to have a meeting with your patient before he is shown around the hospital. You're dismissed."

They all stood, so she did too. Shaking each of their hands, she turned right around and headed out of the door. Once in the hall, she stopped to let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, and glanced down the hallway on either side, and decided to take the left.

She really wasn't sure she was looking too forward to this. Seeing him so soon after what he had done might cause her to get all emotional like she seemed so prone to be lately, and do or say something to get them both in trouble.

Jazlyn took the stairs, because she needed time to get her head straight before going back into the lion's den.

The only questions she could come up with were; was there something so wrong with her, that it was now okay to get viscously raped by a murdering psychopath and not tell anyone about it? Had her foster-father ruined her that badly? Would she end up in here someday, with these other criminals and the insane?

No answers came to either of those questions, so she finally just decided to let it go for now and focus on the task at hand.

It wasn't long before she reached the corridor that led to the Joker's room. There was Zeke, standing at the corner of the short hallway that led to the room door, arms crossed and waiting. When he saw her, he gave her a little smile and a nod of the head, "Morning, Ms. Mirez. Would this be considered a 'big day'?"

She smiled back at him, and gave him a little shrug as she reached him, "I guess that depends on who you're asking, really. It's just another day for me."

Zeke, with his stern-looking, deep blue eyes, laughed politely and said, "Sounds about the same as me," Then he paused, and nodded with his head towards the room door, "He's been waiting for you guys all morning. Getting kinda anxious, I think."

Jazlyn gave him another quick but fake smile, and started on down the little hall, "Thanks for the heads-up."

Reaching the door, she didn't bother to take a moment to ready herself like she usually did. All that seemed to do was delay the inevitable with him. Turning the handle, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, leaving it part way open behind her.

She didn't see him when she entered the room, and instantly her guard went up…or so she thought.

He had come up behind her and grabbed her before she could turn around. His arms wrapped tightly around her, his right hand gripping her left wrist and his left hand placed around her throat, not tightly, but with just enough pressure that she knew it was there. Then his hot breath fanned over her cheek as he said in her ear, "Hello, Do_c_. Didja miss me?"

She cringed when she felt him press his tongue flat against the side of her face, and lick upwards from jaw to temple. Inhaling shakily, she closed her eyes tightly and fought against the wave of nausea that rose up in her stomach, "Mr. Joker…Dr. Rydal will be in here any minute."

He stopped about halfway up her face, and paused, then craned his head over her shoulder and used the hand on her throat to guide her jaw into turning her face towards him. When she opened her eyes, he was giving her a surprised and curious expression. Licking his bottom lip, his eyes shifted up to the ceiling, and then fell back down to her, "Your point is?"

"That if you still want to walk around here mostly freely, instead of sitting here like a lump, you'll let me go before he does." She told him firmly, glaring into his dark eyes.

But he didn't really seem to hear what she said, or he just ignored it. He was busy studying her face, his face now looking stern and focused. Using his fingers on the bottom of her jaw, he turned her head a bit left to right, then up, down and back to the left, all the while staring straight into her eyes.

Studying, searching for something. And then he said, "You too_k_ somethin_g_," his tongue flicked out between his lips like an irritated viper, "Didn't you."

It wasn't a question, and by the way he said it, in that hard, flat tone, she knew that she had done something very wrong. Panic started to rise up in her as the greasepaint creased on his forehead as he scowled, licking the corners of his mouth frantically.

Leaning his face closer to hers, she didn't dare move or struggle. His voice lowered into a dangerous whisper, and his red lips almost brushed against hers as he said with a fierce look in his eyes, "I guess ne_xt_ time I shouldn'_t_ take it _so_ eas_y_ on you."

Jazlyn's eyes widened and she felt the thrill of fear crawl up her spine. His eyes were still staring into hers with such intensity she thought they would burn holes right through her head. Suddenly, he moved his hand on her wrist around and twisted her arm, making her gasp as a stab of pain raced up through her shoulder, and she even thought she felt a tiny 'pop'.

He let her go, and she nearly stumbled when he did, and took a step away from him and straightened her coat and shirt. He also took a step back, but he did it in a crab-like sort of way, moving backwards and sideways at the same time, with his head cocked to the left and his eyes locked on her, with his fingers dancing in the air at his sides as if they ached for something to hurt her with…as of he needed something for that.

It was then that the door swung open and Dr. Rydal strode into the room, looking at his watch before he looked at either of them.

The Joker straightened up and stood in a relaxed position with his feet a little apart and his arms dangling limply at his sides. His head was tilted a little as he watched Dr. Rydal for the few seconds the room was quiet and still, and the image of a curious dog studying a new house guest struck Jazlyn as she looked at him standing that way.

"Mr. Joker," Dr. Rydal started, very business-like and only then looked up, but at Jazlyn, not whom he was addressing, "Ms. Mirez has indeed informed you of the basic idea of this program, and it's stipulations, am I correct?"

Now, he looked at the Joker with a straight face, though Jazlyn could make out the contempt in his eyes. Glancing over at the Joker, she could tell that he saw it, too. Just the tiniest movement of the black paint around his eyes gave away the soft scowl he allowed to show.

The Joker nodded, quietly, chewing a little on his bottom lip.

Dr. Rydal glanced at his paperwork, then back up and said, "And you have agreed to follow the rules?"

Watching him carefully, Jazlyn could almost see those wheels in the Joker's head start smoking as he considered this last part, seeming to have a difficult time with it. His head twisted a little and leaned to the right, and he worked his mouth around, dragging his tongue over his bottom teeth before making a sucking sound with them.

A moment later, he looked a little more cooperative as he said like an afterthought, "Oh, sure."

"Okay," Dr. Rydal responded quickly, "I'm a busy man, so let's just get this over with. Ms. Mirez, Zeke, and I will give you a quick tour of the community areas of the hospital, and then you can join the other patients for lunch in a few hours." Giving them both the 'come with me' gesture, he turned around and walked out of the room.

Neither of them moved for the span of three heartbeats. They just looked at one another, as if waiting for the other to say or do something. The Joker's gaze was calm and fierce at once, and hers was nervous but defiant.

Finally, he stepped forward first, and headed on out the door, turning his head to keep his eye on her until he could no longer do so. Jazlyn waited a couple of seconds, and then followed him, suppressing a shudder.

No one said a word on the way up to the more "public" areas of Arkham. Dr. Rydal led the way, paying more attention to his paperwork half the time then to his surroundings. Next was Zeke, apparently set as a barrier between the Joker and Rydal. Behind and to the side of the Joker, Jazlyn kept a few feet between them, and watched him with interest.

This was sort of new to her, seeing him outside of his room, seeing him out in the community hallways, just walking along without a care in the world.

That's exactly how he looked, at least from her angle. Like he didn't have a care, like none of this mattered.

His held his head up, facing everyone they paced, unlike some patients who shied away from eye-contact with the hospital staff. He just stared ahead, occasionally turning his head to look at something, but for the most part looking totally oblivious. She could even see him bob his head slightly from time to time, as if to music.

This early in the morning, there were not many people wondering the halls. They only passed a couple of interns, a janitor, and three patients on their way to the showers. All of which stopped in their tracks to stare, if only for a moment, at the Joker and his escort, and they didn't bother to hide it.

Not that he cared. The Joker completely ignored everyone, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

And so it was the entire "tour". When they reached the upper levels, Dr. Rydal pointed out various rooms, the community areas like the cafeteria and the session rooms and the gaming or lounging rooms.

Jazlyn noticed that the only times the Joker seemed even the least bit interested in what was going on around him, was when they came to the Arts room and the Library. His steps had slightly faltered when passing the doors to these rooms, so he could get a quick look inside, craning his head to see as much as he could in the second it took to pass the room.

A little over twenty minutes later, they had returned to the Joker's room. While Dr. Rydal gave Jazlyn a list of activities and group sessions for the week, the Joker plopped down on the edge of the bed, completely uninterested in the both of them, his eyes rolling across the ceiling, seemingly lost in his own little world while they finished.

Finally, Dr. Rydal cleared his throat noisily, and turned to address him, "Alright, I believe that about wraps things up here. You are free to walk around, if you wish, before you join the others in the cafeteria," he said, so business-like it made Jazlyn roll her eyes behind his back.

It was no wonder he did nothing but sit behind a desk…his own social skills could use some improvement.

The Joker turned his head a bit at this, pursing his lips a little. Glancing around, he finally shrugged his shoulders and responded simply, "I think I'll stay here awhile longer." He nodded slowly, licking his lips.

Jazlyn was trying not to watch him. He was sitting just like he had been yesterday when she'd walked in. Edge of the bed, feet set apart, back straight, and fingers linked together in the space between his knees. Studying his face for a second, she realized he was doing it on purpose, because he knew it was making her nervous.

She was hardly aware of Rydal talking again, as he said, "Do you have any questions for me, then?" in a tone of voice that suggested plainly that he hoped not.

Leaning his head back a little, the Joker's eyes rolled up to the ceiling and around the room and he chewed his bottom lip as he considered the question. His head began bobbing softly, nodding to himself in a rhythm only he knew.

Smacking his lips loudly, he scrunched up his face a little, and then pointed at Rydal, looking dangerously serious, "Have you fucked her?" he asked, nodding his head and rolling his eyes vaguely towards Jazlyn, who completely froze with shock.

Jazlyn looked with wide eyes from the Joker, to Rydal, and then back again as he continued, "Because," eyes rolling and half closing the left one, he licked at the right side of his mouth, "I have…" He was nodding again, widening his own eyes a little, "Ah, pretty damn good, too."

By now, Jazlyn thought for sure that was it, and she was afraid of what would happen next. She gave the Joker an almost pleading but hateful sort of look. He responded with a sly smile that sent a chill straight up her spine. Looking back over at Rydal, the brief wait felt like it lasted forever.

Dr. Rydal didn't react like she'd thought he would. He simply gave a deep, bored sigh and said in a monotone kind of voice, "Mr. Joker, comments like that are very inappropriate, and if you're going to start the road to recovery, you need to learn to behave yourself."

The Joker's eyes widened in fake surprise, Jazlyn was amazed how wide they could look with the makeup accentuating the movement, and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth again, and turned his head a bit to the left.

Changing his expression altogether, he now looked exaggeratingly concerned, his voice taking on the tone people use when telling a mourning family member how sorry they are to hear the news, "Oh, so that's a no." He twisted his head to the right, staring at Rydal from the corner of his eye, and said, "What's the matter…she not a…," he twisted his head slowly over to the left, looking at him from the corner of the other eye, "Fla_vor_ of the month…Hm?"

Confused, Jazlyn looked at Rydal, and saw something flicker over his face, something like recognition, and then doubt, and then it was gone. Bringing her eyes back to the Joker, she saw that look in his eyes she has seen before…that knowing, cunning, calculating stare. And that smile, just that twitch of the corner of his scarred mouth; he knew something, a dark secret.

Whether Dr. Rydal really believed that the Joker knew something or not, he didn't let on. He just cleared his throat, gestured with his clipboard, and said in a not very convincing tone, "Behave your self, Mr. Joker. I will be checking on you later this afternoon."

With that, he turned around and left the room.

Here they were, alone again. Jazlyn stared at him for what seemed the longest time, and he just stared right back.

His hands fidgeted in the air between his knees, tapping his fingertips together. He bounced his legs a little, and as he stared at her, now giving her that same knowing, cunning look, the corner of a scar twitched up further into a half smile.

Licking his lips slowly, like he was tasting something other then the red makeup, he said in a low, amused voice, "See ya later…_Doc_." while rolling his eyes and wobbling his head a little.

Jazlyn tried to convey a quick _Fuck you_ with her eyes, even if she did know it would just amuse him even more. Which it did, because before she turned around so she could stop looking at him, he gave her a big, stretched grin, and winked at her.

Leaving the room before he could say or do anything else, she made her way down the hall, passing Zeke without a word, and headed back up to her office to do some paperwork until lunch. She just needed to think. She needed to get her swirling emotions under control.

She needed to figure out if she'd made the right choice in allowing the murderous, heartless Joker the privilege to wander the halls to do what could only turn out to be more damage, she was sure.

But, at the same time, she couldn't wait to see what he would do, walking around with the other patients. She couldn't wait to see him in action…

If only she could see the future, she _might_ not have been so anxious. Or would she?


	9. Upset the Established Order

01.22.09: First and foremost, I dedicate this chapter to the memory of Heath Ledger, who tragically passed away one year ago today. May he always Rest In Peace and know he is loved and remembered.

I'm sorry if something doesn't flow quite right or something, especially near the end…I kind of rushed the end, and cut off short in order to _try_ to meet my deadline. Hopefully I have made it close enough, but I doubt it. Anyways, hope it's somewhat worth the wait.

xoHAHAHAxo

It was 12:05 when the Joker stopped in the double-door entrance to the cafeteria, looking briefly over the crowd of fifty-or-so patients already eating at tables, standing around chatting, or in line to get their food.

Licking his lips, he moved forward to slide right through the small group of men standing near the doorway and made his way to the lunch line, easily maneuvering through the scattering of patients.

He didn't go to the end of the line like everyone in front of him. He passed it and kept going, strolling to the front of it.

It looked like he was purposefully ignoring the mix of looks and glares he was getting, holding his head high with his eyes darting this way and that occasionally, but always returning straight ahead to his target.

The man standing third in line to the serving tables wasn't paying attention, as he was turned to talk to the man behind him, which had left a small gap in the chain; the Joker stepped up and slipped casually into the space in front of him.

Licking at the right side of his mouth, he looked around a little and craned his neck to see what there was for lunch. It was when the line started moving again that the man behind him tapped him on the shoulder, "Hey, you cut in front of me, asshole."

The Joker turned first his head, then twisted his upper body around in a robotic-like movement, bending at the waist a bit to hang his head at an angle and stare up at the taller patient through a few curls that fell over his face.

There was a dangerous look in his eyes.

The brown haired patient's eyes widened a little at the painted face that was looking at him, and he backed up a step. Raising his hands in front of his chest, he said in a quick voice, "Go ahead, man. It's cool."

The Joker turned away from him nonchalantly, straightened up, and moved forward a step or two as the man in front of him did.

The lunch line was a set of tables laden with large metal pots and pans of food. Behind the tables stood an assembly line of women, slapping portions of food on the trays.

Grabbing one of these trays as he came up to the bins for them and the plastic flat-wear, he turned it over in his hands, studying it while smacking his lips. It was plastic, one of those sectioned brands, sturdy but lightweight.

He set the tray down on the bars and slid it down them as he moved forward, paying little attention to where he was going as he stared around the room. The women serving the food on the other side of the table each paused to take a second look at him as he passed in front of them. A couple even exchanged disgusted looks, but he didn't seem to notice or care.

Tray full of food, he headed on over to the first table that caught his eye.

The one he chose was half-way across the cafeteria, and was already occupied by a group of patients who were clearly trying to act like the top dogs of the place.

Choosing a seat close to the further end of the table, he sat down heavily. Shifting around a little on the hard chair, the Joker looked over his food as he licked and smacked at his lips like he was incredibly hungry all of a sudden.

Then he picked up the plastic fork and studied it for a moment, chewing at the left side of his mouth, before planting it into the meatloaf-like-substance on the tray.

Leaving the fork to stick up out of the food like a flagpole, he turned his attention to the short carton of milk.

Licking again at his bottom lip, he didn't even seem to notice that the six men at the other end of the table were all frozen and watching him with varying looks of disgust and hate and shock.

Apparently, they just couldn't believe that some guy wearing clown makeup would dare to have the nerve to sit at _their_ table.

Grabbing the straw provided with the utensils, he opened it and dropped it into the milk.

Just moments after he started drinking, however, the group of men at the other end of the table had come up to him. One of them, probably the "leader", tapped the Joker on the shoulder roughly.

The Joker ignored him completely. Finishing the milk within seconds, he had just set it down on the tray again when the guy poked him harder on the shoulder and said in what was supposed to be a threatening manner, "You're at our table."

"Mm-Hm," the Joker responded simply, not even looking back at the guy, instead grabbing a grape from the fruit cup and popping it into his mouth, chewing quickly.

As he was reaching for another bit of fruit, the guy behind him reached to grab his tray, and shoved it off over the edge of the table. It clattered to the floor, scattering food everywhere, the people nearest to their table stopping in their tracks to see what was going on.

The Joker had turned his head to follow the movement of his tray flying off over the end of the table. Raising his eyebrows up high in mock disappointment, he smacked his lips and turned his head back when Top Dog leaned around him to look him in the eyes, trying to put on his meanest face.

"Got anything to say, _freak_?" Top Dog asked, glowering at him.

The Joker lowered his brows in a thoughtful manner, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip, and then looked at him with his head slightly cocked to the right, "Ah, I was going to eat that."

Anger flashed over Top Dog's face and he suddenly reached out and slammed the Joker's head down onto the table so hard it bounced back up, and the sound of the impact caught the attention of even more patients around them.

Donning an expression of hurt and shock, the Joker put the back of his hand to his forehead and mouthed the word 'Ow', just before his head was slammed back down onto the table again, but this time it was held there forcefully.

A soft giggle bubbled up out of him, and a couple of Top Dog's friends exchanged looks.

Biting his bottom lip briefly, the Joker stifled another giggle and said, "Yanno, ya should never start with the head," his eyes rolled upward to catch sight of Top Dog's face hovering above him and he continued, "Now I'm all…fuzzy."

Top Dog made a frustrated sound, and leaned down to growl near his painted face, "What the fuck gives you the right to saunter in here and act like you own the place, _freak_?" he asked, pushing down on the Joker's head to crush it against the wood beneath it.

Scrunching up his face a bit as his head was crushed, he just giggled softly again and said cheerfully, "Well, it doesn't seem like you and you're, ah," he licked his lips, "_Boyfriends_ are doing a very good job."

He tried to nod his head as if that would confirm his words, but couldn't move it much and instead met his gaze with an amused look that only made Top Dog look angrier.

Suddenly, somewhere from the side of him, a fist plowed into his right lower ribcage, and he laughed as it drove most of the air out of him. Another punch landed to his left kidney at the same time that Top Dog bounced his head off the table again and drove it down against it even harder than before.

The Joker only laughed louder, keeping his palms flat on the table at either side of him. He struggled to talk through a fit of giggles as he said, "Yanno what's so _fun_ny? You're…you're the ones who…who look _so-o_ _silly_ right now!"

He continued to laugh, and rage showed clearly in Top Dog's green eyes. His five friends moved in closer to tighten the circle.

"Mother fucker, I'll make you stop your laughing!" he practically yelled, grabbing a fist full of the Joker's green-tinted hair and yanking him off his seat to throw him to the floor.

The laughing only increased, however, both in sound and strength as the Joker fell onto his back and was surrounded by the six men, and Top Dog's voice said, "Shut up! Shut him the fuck up!" and all at once they jumped him, kicking and hitting.

The surprise of the surrounding crowd quickly disappeared, and most of the group began yelling, egging on the six men, and just barely drowning out the howling laughter of the Joker twisting around on the floor.

It wasn't until Top Dog landed a strong kick to the side of his face that there was a break in the laughter, and turning his head from the impact, he spit out a mouthful of blood, grinning all the while.

Licking the blood off his lips like a hungry viper, he then fell into another fit of giggling, a disturbing kind of sound, which was often interrupted by the air being kicked out of him or with an exclamation of 'Oh! Ha Ha' or 'That's it! Ha!' as he was tossed this way and that along the tiles.

Chaos quickly ensued. Patients hooted and hollered, yelling and pushing one another to get a better view of the fight. The few guards and orderlies that had been on the perimeter of the cafeteria were just now trying to struggle through the edge of the crowd to see what was going on…

xoHAHAxo

Jazlyn was on her way to the cafeteria when Amy, another girl in the Internship, came running up to her, breathless and nearly running her over. Pointing behind her down the hall, she tried to speak and gasp for breath at the same time.

"Your pa-…The J-Joker…he's being…there's…he's…"

Jazlyn didn't give her a chance to finally spit the words out, having very quickly grown frustrated and impatient; she took off down the hallway without a word, nearly running, and headed for the cafeteria with a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Something bad was going on, and she wasn't quite sure she really wanted to find out. Yet, she wouldn't slow down for anyone or anything on her way to get to him.


	10. Agent of Chaos

2.07.09: This came out _way_ longer than I had originally intended. Hopefully you don't get too bored. But, for having been so distracted lately, once my Muse got into the sharing frame of mind, he wouldn't stop, and I don't argue.

"_And here…we…go."_

--Agent of Chaos--

Three minutes later, when Jazlyn reached the cafeteria entrance, the halls were already booming with what sounded like a full-on riot.

Stopping in the doorway with her heart pounding in her chest, she did a quick scan of the entire room, taking everything in. The raised voices, shoving bodies, and screeching table and chair legs on the floor was like some haunting orchestra of complete anarchy.

Catching her breath, Jazlyn searched the moving crowd for any sign of her patient, afraid and anxious to see what terrible thing he might be doing to someone.

She was so caught up in the moment of everything that she didn't even bother to wonder why she was so anxious to see something horrible, something violent and probably bloody.

Apparently, that's just the way she had turned out to be.

Finally, through a brief break in the crowd, she saw the group of men in the middle of the room that was attracting so much attention…and then she saw the Joker.

Her heart dropped down into her gut at the sight of him on the floor, being kicked around like a soccer ball in a violent game.

A rage filled her like she had never really known before, and she trembled with the effort to control it, to remain controlled.

She also felt an overwhelming urge to protect him, to go to him and help him, to save him…and she wondered how that had happened.

Her heart ached as she watched him struggle to escape the onslaught of kicking feet, trying to crawl away, but only managing to move an inch or two before he was rolled into another direction.

He wasn't trying to fight back like she would have expected him to be, nor was he calling for help. And he certainly wasn't crying out in pain or fear.

No, The Joker was laughing. With every kick or blow, he laughed, albeit if it was breathless from the air being constantly kicked out of him.

The laughter sent more than just chills up her spine…and the look on his face, when she was able to see it, made her feel dead-cold all over.

There was a look of exhilaration there that both terrified her and absolutely thrilled her at the same time.

Suddenly, he had turned in her direction, and their eyes met. He saw her, he knew she was watching, and she got the terrible feeling that he had been waiting for her.

Looking her straight in the eyes, the Joker smiled. A dark, cunning smile that made her heart flutter in her chest. A second later, he winked at her.

And that was when, all at once like a tightly wound spring, the Joker twisted over onto his back, kicking out to swipe at least three of the guys off their feet. After that, he flipped back over and got onto his hands and knees. Moving quickly, he scrambled toward the abandoned lunch tray on the floor near him. As soon as he got his hands on it, he sprang upward, swinging out in a wide arch to bash the guy nearest him square in the face.

The hard, thick plastic didn't even crack, but it shattered the guy's nose and sent him to the floor, instantly unconscious.

Four men lunged at once to grab him, but the Joker lashed out again, swinging wildly with his fist and the tray, forcing them back.

That was when Jazlyn rushed forward, shoving her way through the excited crowd. Stretching and craning her neck, she tried to find the hospital staff, wondering why they weren't stopping the fight.

The three guards and five orderlies were almost lost in the crowd, too busy with trying to deal with the fifty rowdy patients, and unable to reach the fight that started it all.

By the time she had reached the inner edge of the circle, the Joker had taken out two more of the gang, one unconscious and the other rolling around in pain on the floor, arms wrapped around his sides.

Fighting to break through the line of people, Jazlyn saw the Joker rushing at a third of his attackers, when two of the other guys grabbed him from behind and tried to hold his arms.

The third guy, who Jazlyn recognized as Doug Baxter, a known gangbanger-wanna-be that had formed his own gang in Arkham, this gang, took the opportunity to kick the Joker right between the legs.

"Oh-ha! Aha!" The sound exploded from the Joker, and as he doubled over as much as his captured arms would allow, he started laughing all over again.

The reaction clearly took the three men off-guard. The two holding his arms let him go, and Doug stared at him in shock, as did most everyone else watching.

Taking advantage of the moment, the Joker stopped in mid-laughter, and spun around to hit the guy on his right in the throat with the edge of the lunch tray.

As that guy went down, gasping and holding his neck, the Joker spun again and, swinging upward, drove the same edge of the tray up into the crotch of the guy on his left.

When that one fell to his knees, hands between his legs, the Joker held the tray with both hands and hit him in the face with it as hard as he could. The blow sent him sprawling onto his back, also unconscious.

Jazlyn completely forgot that, as she was supposed to be an "authority figure", she needed to stop this before it went any further. She was the closest, after all, crammed between people of the inner ring of the circle. But, she just couldn't get herself to do anything but watch.

Because, when the Joker turned towards Doug, there was a look on his painted face that absolutely took her breath away. His expression was one much like a tiger's would be when finally cornering his prey, victorious and hungry.

The color drained from Doug's face, and glancing around at his fallen comrades, he didn't look at all sure of himself anymore.

The Joker's smile stretched up even further. Bending at the waist a little, he advanced slowly on Doug, tilting his head to the right and tapping his fingers against the back of the tray.

Doug took a step backward, and bumped into the edge of the table behind him. By now, Jazlyn wasn't the only one who had gone stupid by the scene, as most of the crowd around her had grown quieter.

Something horrible was about to happen…

That's when the Joker attacked, rushing forward so quickly it startled Doug, causing him to trip and fall back onto the table, legs dangling over the edge.

The Joker pounced on him, simultaneously landing a knee hard into his diaphragm and shoving the edge of the lunch tray up against his throat so tightly it cut off the rush of air that had tried to escape.

Holding him down with his knee, he planted his other foot on the table beside him, and leaned down over him to put his face into his.

The sudden silence of the crowd was deafening, and when the Joker spoke, his deep voice seemed to put a spell on everyone watching.

"Would you like to know how I got these scars?" The Joker asked in an almost-whisper, close to Doug's face. Doug's eyes widened and he struggled to breathe. It was obvious that he was so damned scared he didn't realize he still had the use of his hands.

Jazlyn knew that feeling too well.

When Doug didn't reply, the Joker nodded for him himself. Licking his lips, he said, "See, I knew this gangbang_er_ once…you remind me of him," he nodded again, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip in agitation, "He was a real nasty guy, real paranoid, too."

Jazlyn couldn't move, could barely breathe. She was hypnotized, and she didn't really care.

"Well, one day he gets on some bad shit, yanno," leaning up and taking one hand off the tray, he waved his hand and wiggled his fingers frantically in the air beside his own head, "He just goes _cr-ra-a-zy_!" Lowering his brows in either anger or concentration, he said with a nod, "He gets his knife, and his pals hold me down..."

Putting his palm flat on the table beside Doug's head, he tilted his head slightly and his voice gained an almost soothing tone despite his words, "I was smaller then…people pushed me around a lot."

He thrust his face suddenly into Doug's once more, and Jazlyn felt a chill run up her spine at the expression of rage on his white, blood-smeared face, his dangerous voice making her want to hide. Immediately.

"No_-t_. Anymore_-uh_!" he growled venomously With that, he jammed the tray's edge savagely down against Doug's throat, and while Doug made a screeching, gasping sound of pain, the Joker leaned back up and began bashing him over and over in the head with both the flat side and edge.

He was laughing again.

No one could move, or no one dared to. Time seemed to slow way down, and only the Joker was moving, graceful and alive with energy, swinging and bashing in some chaotic rhythm.

The very intensity of it all completely mesmerized her, and everyone else.

He was absolutely beautiful. The way he moved, the animal-like, aggressive sounds he made with each swing of his arms.

Jazlyn wasn't sure how long the beating lasted, but when she was finally able to snap out of her trance-like state, the shape of Doug's head was barely recognizable anymore, and there was blood everywhere.

There was so much blood. And it was apparent, there was such little effort on the Joker's part.

All at once, she found her voice, fueled by a sudden fear, not only from him, but for him…

"That's enough!" She yelled, surprising herself with the sheer volume of it as it echoed off the walls.

In mid swing he whipped around to look at her in surprise, and ended up thrown off balance by the momentum of his arm, which almost caused him to tumble right off of the table.

He didn't even seem to care about that though, if he noticed at all. He just caught himself with his free hand, and twisted his body a bit at a strange angle to look at her almost upside-down.

Smiling at her, he cocked his head to give her an innocent sort of look from the corner of his eye, then stood slowly and stepped around Doug's still torso to face her, "Why hello there, Ms. Mirez."

Jazlyn stepped forward, slowly, well aware of all the eyes on her. She took a moment to study him, to study his face. Blood had dripped down his chin from his mouth and there was a cut along his eyebrow, the blood from which was smeared out into the white.

There were also a few dots of blood placed randomly over his face, which probably wasn't his.

Keeping her voice steady and calm, she said, "Mr. Joker, would you come with me, please?"

Turning his head to the left, working his mouth for a second like he was chewing on his tongue, he seemed to have to think about it for a second, blinking once.

Finally, he smacked his lips very loudly and tossed the bloody lunch tray casually over his shoulder, "Sure thing, do_c_,"

Jumping down from the table, he ran his bloody fingers back through his wild hair, and licked his lips, moving towards her. Tilting his head a bit to the right, he pointed at her, "It just so happens that I have some _issues_ I wanna discuss with you."

He strutted towards her with jerky kind of movements that she strangely found incredibly sexy, licking those red lips again and turning his head to the left to stretch his neck.

Rolling his shoulders, something caught his eye to his left, and he moved to a nearby table. Jazlyn held up her hand to the guards and orderlies who had made to rush at him, and watched him closely, just like everyone else.

The patients he walked nearest to shrank back and stepped away from him. But all he did was pick up an opened milk carton off of a random tray, and drink the remaining contents in one shot. Setting that down, he next grabbed two grapes and a cube of melon, completely oblivious to the many eyes on him.

Popping the fruit into his mouth, he turned and headed back in Jazlyn's direction, chewing quickly as if he couldn't get it eaten fast enough.

The Joker walked towards her, his dark eyes locked on her like the laser of a gun.

The look he was giving her meant something, she just knew it somehow. His head was tilted down and to the left just a bit, looking up at her and squinting one eye, still chewing in rapid, single bites at a time, like his thoughts were interfering with what his mouth was trying to do.

When he finally reached her, she looked him up and down, trying so hard to give him a disgusted look, and knowing that she was probably failing at it. He simply smiled cheerfully at her in response.

Jazlyn narrowed her eyes at him and said simply, "Follow me, please," and with that she turned around and headed through the crowd towards the doors. But, instead of following, he fell into step beside her, strolling along without a care in the world.

Everyone stepped back to give them room to get through, no one wanting to get too close, and Jazlyn could certainly understand why. With her peripheral vision, she could see the peaceful, calm expression on his face, and she wanted to shudder; she wasn't all too sure that was from fear, though.

He just didn't care. He had just beat six men almost to death with basically his bare hands, but it was like nothing had happened.

The mixed stares of horror and shock and even admiration on the many faces they passed didn't bother him either, he didn't even appear to see them.

It just didn't matter to him, nothing about it did. Nothing mattered to him.

What Jazlyn wouldn't give to have that kind of…freedom….to just not care.

When they reached the cafeteria entrance, two orderlies came up and made to grab the Joker's arms, but she stopped them with a stern look and shake of her head. They fell into step a few feet behind her and the Joker, keeping their distance but clearly thinking they were alert and ready.

The four hadn't made it very far down the hallway when Amy came back up to Jazlyn, also making sure to keep her distance from the Joker, who she eyed fearfully, and who was ignoring the lot of them, she said, "Dr. Rydal found out what's happened, he wants to see the both of you in his office--,"

"We are on our way to the Infirmary, Amy—, " Jazlyn began, but was cut short by Amy's serious tone.

"He said 'right now'."


	11. Logic

2.09.09: It really is so much more fun to write the "shorter chapters". Things seem to go so much more smoothly. I think, anyways. I suppose you can be the judge of that. With any luck, the next will be up soon.

-- Logic --

"I don't want to hear a bunch of B.S., Ms. Mirez, I just want answers. So, what the hell happened?" Dr. Rydal was, clearly, more than a little upset. He had stated yelling as soon as they'd walked in the door.

Before she was even able to open her mouth in response, though, he continued, "Four hours! Four hours your patient was in the program…what the hell went on down there?"

Glancing over at the Joker, she saw that he didn't even seem to be paying attention. He was looking around the Administrator's office, eyes lingering on a picture on the desk of Dr. Rydal with his wife and two little girls.

It looked like she was on her own, here.

"Sir, it wasn't his fault—"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Rydal glowered at her.

_If you would shut the fuck up, I could tell your pampas ass,_ she thought, glaring at him. Out loud, she said hurriedly before he could interrupt again, "He was jumped, sir, by Doug Baxter's group—"

"And that gives him the right to—"

"He was defending himself, sir!" She hadn't meant to yell that, but she did. The fact that he apparently didn't want to hear what she said, regardless of his questioning, really ticked her off. And she hated being interrupted.

Dr. Rydal's eyes widened at the volume of her voice, and then he gave her a look that was supposed to remind her just who she was talking to. She didn't even acknowledge it.

Rydal opened his mouth to speak again, but she cut him off this time, squaring her shoulders in determination and trying to keep her voice level and calm. But even she could still hear the anger in her voice.

"I have more than a dozen witnesses, at the very least, who can testify to the fact that the Joker was defending himself. Everyone saw it, and I myself witnessed most of it, too. Check the cafeteria videos; I'm sure they'll show the same thing. Doug's group was viciously assaulting him, six to one, and he was fighting for his life."

Pausing for a second, she said very dryly, "What would you have done, sir, if it had been you in his position?"

Beside her, the Joker had started humming softly to himself, which was incredibly distracting, but she tried to remain focused.

Rydal said nothing, and the outrage in his eyes seemed to dissipate into confusion, so she drove the nail a little deeper, "It's true that he may have done much more damage than they had done to him, but if it had been you being kicked around on the floor by six guys, I bet you would have been pushed to an extreme, too."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jazlyn noticed the Joker look over at her, licking his lips. But he still said nothing.

A moment of silence passed, and Dr. Rydal appeared to have regained much of his composer as her words made more and more sense.

Still, he finally cleared his throat and asked, "So you think that your patient's defending himself excuses him do what I am told he did down there, to nearly kill six men with his bare hands?" His voice wavered, and she knew she had definitely made her point

Nodding softly, but keeping her eyes on his, she said, "Yes, I do. Extreme or not, he did what he had to do to defend himself," a thought occurred t her, and she had to try very hard not to smile as she finished with, "This _is_ an asylum, Dr. Rydal. I think we can both agree that the 'extreme' is kind of the norm around here, don't you?"

That did it. Dr. Rydal looked away from her and to his desk, shifting a couple of random papers around.

When he looked back up, he linked his fingers together in front of him, and just looked at her for a second.

She didn't blink, or budge.

Taking his eyes off of her, Rydal addressed the Joker, "And what do you have to say about all of this?" he asked in a gruff, non-pleasant tone.

The Joker, who had been staring off to the side, looked at Dr. Rydal is if he had never seen him before in his life.

Raising his brows up high, he closed and opened his eyes in slow motion, and when he opened his mouth, his tongue ran out over his top lip, "Ah…self defense. That's what it was."

Rydal gave the Joker an irritated sort of look. Then he looked back at Jazlyn, as if hoping she would help him out somehow. She said nothing, so he glanced between the two of them as if unsure to really believe them or not.

Finally, he cleared his throat, looked back down at his desk, and gave a deep sigh, "Alright, Ms. Mirez, alright. I'm going to take your word, but be warned," he pointed at her briefly, and giving her what was supposed to be a stern look, "If I see anything on the video that goes against your 'self defense' plea, or someone tells me something differently, there will be severe consequences."

She nodded, wanting so badly to roll her eyes. He was trying to scare her, but he didn't, he didn't affect her in the least. He was just a bully because he thought he had real power.

But, the man next to her was a completely different story. The Joker's very presence made her skin tingle, and he was so close to her she thought she could even feel his intense body heat, and that made it worse.

She was struggling to keep eye contact with Rydal as the Joker shifted anxiously to the side of her, and the hospital administrator leaned way back in his big swivel chair, arms on the armrests, and said, "As it is, I'm punishing your client, the Joker, to no less than six days in Solitary, one for every count of assault."

_He is such an idiot_, she thought to herself, narrowing her eyes, when he continued with, "That is the minimum…if one of the other patients end up dead, the punishment will be longer. Do you understand?"

Swallowing her anger, she said in a flat tone, "Yes, sir."

Dr. Rydal glanced from her to the Joker, who again wasn't paying attention, or at least didn't seem to be. He was studying his nails, trying to get blood out from under them, chewing at his bottom lip in concentration.

Going back to his paperwork, Dr. Rydal didn't look at her as he finally excused them, "Take your patient to the Infirmary, and then straight to Solitary," looking up and past them to the two orderlies that had been standing near the doorway the whole time, he said, "He is to be placed in confinement until further notice."

Now that, she thought, wasn't fair at all. He would already be locked away in the basement away from everyone; she didn't see the point in tying him up, too.

But she didn't say anything because she didn't want to push their luck. Turning to face the Joker, which caught his attention, she gestured for him to head towards the door. The orderlies, Isaac and Jeremy, moved out into the hall after him.

Jazlyn may have looked calm on the outside, but inside she was seething. That hadn't gone exactly as she would have liked, but it had gone better than she had feared.

The walk to the Infirmary felt like it took forever, and when she wasn't lost in her own thoughts, she was watching the Joker ahead of her. He walked with such an air of total indifference that it almost made her feel better about the situation.

That was when everything seemed to fall into place inside her head, and suddenly she realized that he had known what he was doing all along. She remembered that smile he had given her when their eyes had met, that look in his eyes.

He had planned this, she was sure of it now, but why? What was the point, or was there even one?

The enigma that is the Joker became even more complex and confusing, and the hatred she'd felt for him this morning turned right back into that strange longing she could never fully shake, no matter what he said or did to her.

The floor of the Infirmary was nearly deserted at this time of day. One hallway, however, was buzzing, and she knew it was because in those rooms the nurses and doctors were tending to Doug and his group. From the sounds of it, things weren't going so well.

She didn't bother any of them in assisting her with the Joker. Picking a room in the furthest hallway from the action, she decided to deal with him herself.

Jazlyn didn't see the real problem in this as she ordered Isaac and Jeremy to wait outside the room, and as she ushered the Joker inside, she felt as naïve and stupid as the day she had met him…

Because, as soon as the door had clicked shut, the Joker grabbed her from behind and put his hand over her mouth.


	12. The Game

4/4/09: I dedicate this chapter to Heath Ledger, whose Birthday is today.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Ledger! We miss you.

R.I.P. April 4, 1979 – Jan. 22, 2008

- - The Game - -

Jazlyn was spun around and bent over the exam table so fast that it made her dizzy. In a matter of moments, before her brain could fully catch up to what was going on, the Joker had placed his right knee down onto her back to hold her down, and had taken her left wrist in his hand to twist her arm behind her, pulling up violently at an angle with such force it ripped her shoulder right out of its socket.

She screamed against his hand, held so tightly against her mouth it hurt, but the sound was little more than a muffled cry.

Above her, he giggled deep in his chest, and she could hear the sadistic satisfaction in that noise without ever having to see it on his painted face.

Closing her eyes tight, squeezing them shut, Jazlyn focused all of her energy into not passing out. The pain was excruciating, even more so because every time she tried to move, he tugged up on her arm just a bit at a time.

It was all she could do not only not to pass out as spots swam before her eyes, but also not to cry. Somewhere deep down she knew she deserved this, even if she wasn't sure exactly why.

As if reading her thoughts, the Joker leaned down and his hot breath fanned her cheek as he said in a pleasant, thoughtful tone right in her ear, "See, if ya can'_t_ stand the pain, you shouldn'_t_ have joined the game."

He moved a little, and Jazlyn opened her eyes to see his face. He was looking at her, eyes darting this way and that, working his mouth around a bit like he was chewing on his tongue.

Apparently he liked what he saw, be it the fear or the pain or the hatred in her eyes when she looked back at him. Maybe it was the combination of the three.

For a split second he made a kind of snarling face, sucking briefly on his teeth. Next, a wide grin stretched the scarred corners of his mouth as far as they could possibly go.

That third second later, Jazlyn could make out a very familiar and frightening feeling against the small of her back. The Joker was very turned on.

Panic rose up in her chest, making her heart skip a beat or two. She made some sort of pathetic sound against the palm of his hand, and he responded by grinding his very hard erection painfully against her lower spine a couple of times.

It was just then that there was a soft knock on the door.

Jazlyn just barely caught sight of the irritated face the Joker made as he looked over at the door, staring at it like he had completely forgotten it had been there.

"Ms. Mirez, is everything alright in there? Do you need a hand?" A voice said from the other side of the door, and in the small frosted window she saw the movement of a shadow.

The doorknob started to turn. In one smooth, fluid movement, the Joker pulled her up to a standing position, then turned and sat down on the table next to her with his hands resting between his knees.

Half a heartbeat later, the door swung open and one of the orderlies was looking in at them, "You ok in here?" he asked way too cheerfully.

Apparently, he didn't have a clue.

Jazlyn was at a loss for a moment. Everything had happened so fast and it left her dazed and stupid. Slowly, she turned her head to look at the Joker.

He was just sitting there on the table, kicking his legs a bit as his feet dangled above the floor, hands on the table between his knees, absently rubbing together. He wasn't even looking at her or the door, but instead off to the side to study a smaller table with medical instruments laying on it.

The uninterested expression on his face as he licked his lips and ignored the both of them made her want to shiver. She didn't, though, for fear of wincing, showing her pain, and drawing the orderly's attention to it.

Finally, she was able to find her voice, however meek it was, and looked back at the door to say, "We're done, actually." and he nodded and disappeared without another word.

"Great!" The Joker said suddenly, clapping his hands together and startling her. Hopping down from the table, he was grinning as he stepped around her, "That was _fun_, Doc. Let's do it again sometime."

With that, he slapped her ass so hard it stung as he passed her and headed for the door.

Another bolt of pain raced down her arm when she jumped again, and she bit her lip to keep from making a noise.

Staying behind for a few seconds to gather her self, Jazlyn followed him. Once in the hall, she shut the door and led the way out of the hospital wing towards the lower levels which held the rooms for Solitary.

The entire walk seemed like a dream. Nothing felt real, and it was over before Jazlyn knew it. The two orderlies placed the Joker in a straight jacket before escorting him into the room he'd be occupying, and all the while he didn't even look in her direction, nor did he look the slightest bit interested at what was going on.

As soon as he was out of her sight, before the door could even be shut, Jazlyn turned sharply on her heel and made her way back up to the office levels at a quick but casual pace.

Once inside the locked, secure room of her darkened office, she found the nearest wall to relocate her shoulder with. The pain of putting the bone back into place was nearly as bad as when he had yanked it out. Her knees buckled so she just slid down the wall to sit on the floor, her throbbing arm resting limply across her lap.

Breathing steadily, she still fought the urge to cry, no matter how much she wanted to. Closing her eyes, she just concentrated on her breathing, and tried hard not to envision that grinning, painted face staring at her like a little kid that had just discovered a new favorite toy.

-- -- -- --

A few hours later, it was finally time to go home. Locking her office door behind her, she jumped with someone tapped her on the shoulder…the still-throbbing one.

Turning around quickly, Jazlyn still didn't relax too much when she saw that it was Dr. Rydal, looking even more stern than usual.

He spoke before she could say anything, "Ms. Mirez, I thought you should know that Doug Baxter died in surgery an hour ago. Severe head trauma caused a brain bleed that couldn't be fixed."

Somehow, Jazlyn wasn't surprised, but she at least tried to look concerned, though she wasn't sure she pulled it off. She just really didn't care.

There was a moment of silence between them, like he was waiting for her to say something. When she didn't respond, he continued, "Because of the result of Baxter's death, I have sentenced The Joker, to four more weeks in Solitary Confinement."

Jazlyn was trying so hard now not to look angry at this news; because she was, very much so, even if she wasn't totally sure why.

"As his doctor, I figured you should be the first to know. Of course, this means you will not be treating him until his release from solitary, so you will be assigned to another patient to keep you on track for your credits."

All she could think to say in response to the whole thing was, "Yes, Dr. Rydal, I understand."

He nodded at her, bid her a good evening, and headed back down the hall.

Standing there for a moment, Jazlyn wasn't sure exactly what she felt. Should she be relieved that she didn't have to see the Joker for almost five weeks, or should she be angry that, no matter what she had said as far as her 'self defense' story, it hadn't mattered anyway?

Making her way through the winding hallways, she found out that there was only one thing she felt when it came to not being able to see the man that had raped her, tormented her, and hurt her.

Sadness, because she was going to miss him. She was going to miss the Joker.


	13. Phone Call

4.13.09

13, Phone Call

Just over two weeks had gone by, and Jazlyn was growing restless. The time away from The Joker had given her quite a bit of time to think about this whole situation.

She still didn't know a whole lot of answers to her questions. Especially confusing was her strange array of feelings about the man that had haunted her dreams since the first night she laid eyes on him.

The one thing she did know without a doubt now was that she didn't think she could make it three more weeks without seeing or talking to the Joker. He was, after all, the only reason she had decided to come work at Arkham. Without him, the place was just another building full of people that didn't understand her.

The Joker made her feel understood. He made her feel important, because even if he wasn't happy to see her, he still _saw_ her, and he didn't judge her.

He also made her feel more wanted and special than anyone else ever had, no matter how negative and hurtful the attention she was getting from him was. He still scared the hell out of her, and she still hated him in some ways, but in most other ways she was hooked.

Like a fish in a barrel.

The case she had been assigned to for the five weeks did not even hold a match to the Joker, in any way shape or form.

Thomas Anderson had a text-book case of Schizophrenia. The only thing that made him remotely interesting in a medical perspective was that the other personality, named Nicky, didn't speak a lick of English or any other real language for that matter. Instead he spoke some kind of strange Spanish, Latin, French mixed language that took some doing to translate.

Something Jazlyn didn't have the patience for. She could think of a million other unpleasant things she would rather be doing then having a chat with either Thomas, who was a very dull person, or with Nicky.

Today she had been unlucky enough to have to visit with Nicky and not with Thomas who, dull or not, she could at least keep up with in conversation. It had been the longest two-hour session of her life.

As soon as she had gotten home, she had taken a very long bath and then a very hot shower just to get the feeling of the asylum off her. Then, she had flopped down on the bed, and passed out like she had just finished running a 100k marathon.

Her sleep this night was no different than many other nights before it, haunted by the painted face and cruel laughter she had come to know so well.

Only this time the laughter was very suddenly drowned out by the high-pitched sound of an alarm right beside her head…

Jazlyn sat up in bed so fast it made her light headed. Her heart was pounding within her chest, and it took a second or two to realize that she was in her apartment alone, and not captured under a writhing, angry clown.

Right about then the phone rang again, making her nearly jump right off the bed.

Practically lunging across the bed to land on her stomach, she grabbed up the infernal device before it could ring once more, and put the receiver against her ear to grunt out an annoyed, "Hello?"

"Hello there," said a very familiar voice in the most laid-back tone she had heard him use.

Jazlyn sat straight up in bed, the sheet falling off her bare shoulders, and she could hardly contain the note of dread in her voice, "Mr. Joker?"

"Were you dreaming again?" he asked, sounding like he already knew the answer.

Looking at the clock, which read 4:30am, she glanced around her darkened apartment as if he would be standing right there in a shadowed corner, "Where are you?"

The Joker sighed dramatically, "I'm bore_-d_," he almost whined, putting emphasis on the 'd' to make it sound like 'duh', and she felt a little shiver run up her spine.

It probably wasn't a good thing for the Joker to be bored, especially if he was out and among other people.

But if he was out, why would he be calling her?

Lowering her voice, Jazlyn asked him, "You haven't left the hospital, have you?"

She really wasn't even expecting an answer, but she had to know; she also had a feeling he wouldn't tell her either way…which is exactly what happened.

"I had this dream the other night," he went on, as if the conversation had never strayed, "It was about you."

Blinking, she forgot all about where he might or might not be, "You had a dream about me?" she repeated incredulously, making sure she'd heard him correctly.

"Mm-Hm," It came out just slightly impatient. So, she asked the most obvious question that came to mind, "What was it about?"

"Well, you were dying in it, of course."

If that wasn't the creepiest sentence ever said to her, it was made all the worse by the matter-of-fact tone of voice he said it in, and the unpleasant smile behind it.

A shudder crawled right up her spine, and she had to take a moment to clear her head. Finally, she swallowed, and asked him slowly, staring at a random spot on the dark wall across from her, "Was it you who killed me, Mr. Joker?"

"I don't wanna kill you!" he exclaimed a little loudly, sounding genuinely hurt that she would think of such a thing, "I _like_ you. We have something _special_, remember?"

That was not as comforting as he tried to make it sound. Jazlyn knew full well that just because he said he 'didn't wanna' kill her, it didn't mean he wouldn't, either.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. She might have heard him smack his lips thoughtfully, but she wasn't sure as she was still trying to process everything.

Then he said off-handedly, "Yanno…this is expired."

Now Jazlyn was really confused. Looking around her apartment again, like that was going to help anything, she asked, "What is?"

"Your license." he replied innocently.

It took a moment for the facts to snowball together in her head; her license…that was in her wallet…where was her wallet? She didn't remember carrying it into the apartment.

It must still be in her desk drawer, in her office, back at Arkham.

When it hit her, it hit her hard, and she was stunned. He was in her office, he was going through her things, her personal things.

She wondered again how he was able to do this, to be out of his room and talking to her, going through her stuff, and all without being caught.

How was he able to completely unnerve her, and turn her on for his sense of carelessness at the same time?

There was really only one answer for that, though, and she seemed to come back to it every time.

He was the Joker. He had his ways.

Inhaling slowly, she spoke with a great amount of care in the hopes he would stay in his sharing mood, "Mr. Joker, have you hurt someone?"

He giggled. A dark sound that made her skin crawl and her heart flutter at once, and when he responded that gleeful, childlike sound echoed in his voice, "Of course I have…why else am I in the loony bin?"

Jazlyn hoped he was being vague just to be vague, and not because he had some sort of surprise for her tomorrow involving a body bag. Just because she wasn't at Arkham to make friends, she still didn't want innocent people to die because of her.

A moment of silence passed between them. When she finally opened her mouth to speak, he was already talking first.

"As much as I'd love to stay and chat, gotta go. You sleep well, Princess." The biting sarcasm in his voice made her physically wince, like he had slapped her in the face.

But the click of the phone and the dead silence on the other end was even worse.

Jazlyn suddenly felt very, very alone without his voice in her ear. Now, she knew what she had to do.

She had to break into Solitary and see him. Tomorrow night.


	14. The Plan

4.14.09 I dedicate this to the memory of Mary, whose birthday is today, and Taylor. They'll be forever missed.

14, The Plan

She hadn't gotten another minute of sleep last night after her chat with the Joker. It just hadn't been possible.

Instead, she had sat at her little desk in the near-darkness for the rest of the night, trying to come up with the best way to get into the Joker's solitary room without being caught.

After hours would certainly be the best time to do it. Most of the doctors, interns, and staff would have gone home and there would be a minimal amount of guards. Not much happened at night, because most of the trouble makers would be sedated to sleep by lights out.

The problem was actually getting into his room. She supposed she could just take a set of keys from one of the upper staff member's lockers, and then just replace them before morning shifts.

Maybe she could get some time in the surveillance room to see if she could see any pattern to the staff's rounds.

She could make this work. She _would_ make this work. Somewhere deep inside, she just knew she would make him proud; show him that she was more then just a chick with a crush.

She was so excited, anxious from the sense of danger in her plan…what if she got caught...that the next morning and afternoon at Arkham had gone by incredibly slow.

Today was one of her paperwork days, no scheduled sessions with patients. She got all of her paperwork finished by mid-morning, leaving her the rest of the day to think.

Fifty bucks poorer, Jazlyn had found herself standing in the surveillance room with Dwight, one of the top surveillance guys in the hospital, but it had turned out to be worth it.

She told him vaguely about a plan to write a paper on the behind the scenes of the hospital as a cover story for her real plan.

Whether he believed her or not, she didn't know, much less did she care, and he went about showing her which screens showed which hallways. He even gave her a few tips on how to get to a specific hallway the fastest.

At some point, he had pointed at the live video feed of a hallway that really captured her attention. There was Zeke, walking out of a room and locking the door behind him, before making his way off the camera's view.

That had to be the Joker's room. It just had to be. She hadn't seen Zeke assigned to anyone else, something that had never seemed strange until that very moment, and it just felt too right for her to be wrong.

Now she knew where she was going, and her plan became all the more real.

Getting the keys from someone's locker, however, proved to be a little more difficult. She had realized that the only way this would work, was if she picked someone who not only had this night off, but probably the next morning as well. That way, if she was unable to return the keys before the morning shifts started, no one would be the wiser.

Finding a way to get this information was the hardest part, because it meant getting into Dr. Rydal's office, while he wasn't there of course, to find the schedules.

Luckily enough for her, he went out for lunch every day he was at work some time between twelve-thirty and one o'clock, and he was always gone no less than an hour.

Right on time, he had left for lunch. It hadn't taken Jazlyn very long to find the schedules, skim through them, and get back out before anyone could see her, including Dr. Rydal's assistant who walked in ten seconds after she shut the door and disappeared around the corner.

Ernie Wilson was on a short leave of absence due to his wife having a baby just two days prior, so he wouldn't be back for at least three more days. Perfect.

The locker room had been empty, but the combination lock on the employee's locker door was a little frustrating to crack.

12-26-72 turned out to be the magic numbers to open it; they were Ernie's birth date, how original.

Keys finally in hand, Jazlyn made her way back to her office, where she spent the rest of the day settling her nerves by going over her session notes with the Joker, as if mentally gearing herself up for what was to come.

-x-x-x-x-

Jazlyn would have never thought that an insane asylum would be so eerily quiet at night. The silence worried her so much, she was afraid every little noise she made would alert someone to her presence.

Hiding out in the lowest men's room she could get into, which she had chosen for the fact that it didn't get used near as often as the other bathrooms, she had waited for two hours after lights out to make her move.

Once that time had come, she had worked herself up into such an anxious frenzy she had started to worry about getting stupid and getting caught.

Making it to the hallway that held the Joker's room went by smooth enough. Only two guards had crossed her path, but she'd managed to slip by them completely unnoticed.

Soon enough, there it was. The door to the room she sought.

Jazlyn suddenly found herself overcome with all sorts of feelings at once. In a moment, everything from fear to excitement to doubt flooded through her at once.

For the span of a single heartbeat, she thought she would turn around and abandon the whole thing. She thought she would give up after coming this far. She thought that it might be better not to see him after all.

That, however, was an even more terrifying conclusion then if she got caught doing this. There was no way she could go much longer without seeing the man that, at this point, she had come to live for. Without him, life was so much more depressing, so much less colorful.

She needed those colors. The purples, the greens, the red, and the blues…it was too bad he would only be in grey, but she could well enough see him just as she had that night in the alley, all the same.

Finally, stealing herself, Jazlyn bolted for the door. Finding the right key took longer than she would have liked…the sense of urgency and danger as she constantly looked from side to side to make sure someone wasn't coming was almost a physical force surrounding her, breathing down her neck.

At last, she found the right key. Unlocking the door, she opened it only as much as she needed to fit through, and slid inside, shutting it behind her.

The total darkness within the Joker's room swallowed her. For a few moments, she thought maybe she had somehow died, and this was eternity, black and stretching on forever.

Then there was a sound. Only one, but it sent a shiver of fear and excitement through her that she didn't have to hide in the dark.

The soft, slow breathing of the Joker, somewhere in the room, somewhere she couldn't see, somewhere very close.


End file.
